Her lips parted for a long moment, forming and un-forming a question until she finally murmured, “Thank you for the gift.”
“Of course.” I nodded breathlessly.
Whatever she’d intended to ask me, she never did.
I was lying in bed, wearing nothing but sweats, while I scrolled through my phone looking at vintage watches, just waiting for Liam to get home so I could have a word with him—when the sound of Sara’s scream made my blood curl.
I scrambled out of bed and tore down the hall, but when I shoved against her door, I was horrified to find it was locked. A muffled whimper filtered through, and panic-saturated instinct took over—I shouldered it open, ready to kill someone.
Inside, I found Sara thrashing in the bed, fightingno oneas she cried a strangled noise for help, and I realized with heartbreak and relief that she was dreaming. My chest caved in as I raced for her, loosening the sheets that were tightly tangled around her body before pulling her into my arms.
“Sara, sweetheart, wake up.” She gasped a breath and shoved against me the minute her eyes flew open. “It’s me, it’s Carter.” I pushed her hair out of her face, cupping her cheek as her eyes darted around wildly. “It was just a nightmare. I’ve got you. You’re okay now.”
It took her a moment to get her bearings, her gasping breaths coming more and more steady by the second as she finally slumped forward, face hidden by her hair as she dropped her head into her hands.
“It was just a dream.” I hummed, my panic morphing intoheartbreak as her gasps slowly turned into quiet, broken sobs. “Not real.”
The sound she made was the most heartbreaking noise I’d ever witnessed. I’d heard it only once before.That night.The night I’d watched her break right in front of my very eyes.
“It’s me.” She cried, slumping against me.
“What’s you?” I asked, gently stroking her hair.
“In my dream, I’m the one who’s dead.” She sobbed. “I’m the one who’s trapped in the coffin, and I can’t get out.”
“Oh, Sara.” I sighed, completely understanding the guilt, the nightmares, the ache of it all. “I’m so sorry I missed the funeral.”
“I know you would have been there if you could have.” She said, and I hummed in agreement. “You’ll never guess who showed up.”
“Who?” I tensed.
“Taggart fucking Caldwell.” She practically hissed.
“That fucker.” My jaw flexed.
“He’s in every single one of my nightmares—right before Liam accuses me of not doing enough and before my mother disappears and I appear in her place.”
“After my parents died,” I started slowly because I’d never really talked about this. “I couldn’t sleep for months.” I admitted, leaving out that I’d always felt like someone was going to come for me next. “It gets better, it takes a while, but it does get better.” I promised, not bothering to admit that eventually she’d be able to sleep soundly again, but that during the waking hours, the ache would never fully go away.
I hated this for her so much, wished I could bring her mother back, for both her and Liam. They were clearly dealing with the loss in different ways, but it was taking its toll on both of them, and from personal experience, I knew it would for a long while.
“I’m so exhausted.” Sara sighed. “All the time I’m so exhausted.”
“You have to try to eat.” I gently coaxed.
“I really do try.” She admitted. “I don’t know why I can’t keepanything down. Every time I force myself to eat—it just makes me sick.”
I loosed a heavy breath. “I know.”
We sat quietly for a little while, basking in each other’s warmth, me selfishly stealing this tiny moment of closeness before my mouth curved in amusement.
“That protein shake… is nasty as shit.” I confessed, playing with the end of one of her curls.
She huffed a laugh. “I knew it.”
“Like, really bad.” My chest shook with laughter.
“And why is it so freaking gritty?” She exclaimed. “It’s like drinking sand.”
