My
body convulsed as I bolted upright, drenched in sweat, breath caught in my throat. The fire was out. The night was thick around me. A low wind whispered through the trees, but it sounded like laughter.
My scream hadn’t been silent this time.
Others were stirring. I could hear them—murmurs, curses, footsteps crunching in the dirt. Someone hissed for silence. Another grumbled something about waking the dead.
I pressed both hands to my face, but the tears were still falling. My chest heaved, every breath slicing my lungs. I could still see her. I could still hear him choking.
It wasn’t just a dream. It felt like a memory, worse still, a prophecy.
I curled into myself, trying to disappear. But I could feel the eyes. Dozens of them. From the trees, from the tents, from the shadows.
Th
