ELEANOR
I woke up with my heart beating violently against my chest.
My nightshirt clung to me, damp from sweat, and my hair stuck to my forehead.
The thoughts from the nightmare lingered—Baron's smile, Trisha's laugh, the other woman's fingernails raking up and down his back while I stood there frozen in the doorway.
The scream in my chest did not make a sound.
I worked my elbows under me, wheezing for air as though it would take away the irritating memory.
Movement caught my notice.
At the corner of the room, an aged woman stood by the vanity, gently setting up tiny glass vials and wrinkled clothes.
Her hair was silver-colored and coiffed neatly, her back straight despite her age.
I involuntarily pulled the blanket up to my chin.
She turned at the motion. Her face was soft, l
