ALEX.
I woke up with my heart pounding and my throat tight, the kind of waking that felt more like being dragged out of water than sleep ending naturally. For a few seconds, I didn’t know where I was. The ceiling above me blurred into the ceiling of my childhood home, the one that smelled like cinnamon and old books and safety. Then the memory snapped into focus, sharp and cruel, and I remembered everything.
The accident. The phone call. The sound of my own scream echoing in a space that would never feel like home again.
I pressed my fist against my mouth to keep it from making a sound. The room at the mansion was still dark, dawn barely peeking through the curtains, but my body was already awake, buzzing with grief I hadn’t invited. I lay there for a long time, staring at nothing, wond
