The first night Alexander entered her room, Arianna thought she was dreaming.
She had finally begun sleeping without waking up screaming. It had taken days — days of forcing herself to believe the locked doors she remembered were no longer real, days of reminding herself that footsteps in the hallway did not mean punishment.
That night the moon was bright.
Silver light filled her room.
She stirred when she felt the mattress dip slightly beside her.
Her eyes flew open.
For a moment, panic surged through her like a storm.
Then she saw him.
Alexander sat at the edge of the bed, still fully dressed, his broad shoulders tense like he expected her to attack him.
“I didn’t mean to frighten you,” he said quietly.
Her heart was racing.
“What are you doing here?”
The question came out so
