It slid across Chloe’s eyelids, hot and insistent. She frowned, turned, and yanked the duvet over her head. Five more minutes. Ten. A lifetime. _Swish._ The curtains flew open. Light flooded the room like a judgment. Chloe groaned and burrowed deeper. _No. Too bright. Too… everything._ Clara stood frozen by the window, hand still on the velvet. She’d been ordered to wake Madam. Sir Liam’s exact words: _7:00 AM. No exceptions._ But Madam looked wrecked. Dark circles. Sweat-damp hair. Breathing too fast for sleep. Waking her felt dangerous. _Not_ waking her felt like unemployment. Clara scratched her head. “Madam…?” Her voice was barely a whisper. --- *The Dream* I was at the altar. White flowers. Music. Liam in a black tux, smiling — really smiling — and his eyes held nothing but warmth. Fo
