“What did you dream about?” Daniel asked me right after I woke up. God knows what time is was, but it was very early.
I whined, “let me sleep and then I’ll tell you.” He lay on the ground with me and wrapped an old blanket over me as his arms embraced me into one of his warm hugs, and he kissed my cheek. “Is Mark still infiltrating your dreams?”
I had to lie to him; there was no way I could possibly tell him what happened yesterday, so I just said, “nope, nothing happened.”
“You’re lying to me,” I couldn’t look him in the eyes. Some things are meant to be private and personal, and he should know that, so I just replied: “It’s really not a big deal to me anymore; what matters is to get over these rooms and find out who really did kill my dad, and my mom might be added to the equation, to
