The staff restroom was blissfully empty.
After taking care of business, she crossed to the sink and froze at her reflection. For someone who lived in the Sunshine State, she looked ghostly—washed out, nearly translucent. The dark shadows beneath her eyes had become more pronounced over the past week, smudging her face like bruises.
Lack of sleep was the obvious culprit. And she blamed Alec.
Seeing him again had dragged that old nightmare into the regular rotation. The one that haunted her for years. The one she thought she’d outrun.
It always began the same way…
A police captain escorted her into a cold, windowless room. The air reeked of antiseptic and something else, something worse. A man in white scrubs and a surgical mask approached a wall of small stainless-steel doors. He opened one and slid out a tray, the unmistakable shape of a body beneath a sheet.
Emily shrank against the captain’s arm. “No. Please. Don’t make me look.”
“You must,” he insisted, nodding to the other man.
Her pulse pounded, her stomach twisting into knots as gloved hands peeled back the sheet.
Sometimes, it was her father lying there, young and vibrant, as she remembered him from her childhood. Other times, it was her mother,peaches-and-cream complexion and perfect as if she were merely napping. Lately, Ethan had joined the mix, familiar dark stubble and the same half smile he’d worn the last time she saw him. Seeing them whole, as they had been in life, offered a strange, ugly comfort then the dream turned darker.
Low, velvety laughter drifted through the room—Alec’s, impossible to mistake. She searched the shadows.
“Where is he?” she demanded, but the captain didn’t answer. The tray disappeared. The man in scrubs stood alone. Above his mask were black, soulless eyes. He ripped the mask off. The face behind it twisted, the laugh now chilling—nothing like Alec’s.
She lunged for the door, but it was locked.
“Who are you?” she cried.
“I think you know,” the voice replied,impossibly close. “I’ve come for my next victim.”
She turned to face him, but the man in white was gone. A figure in a voluminous black robe stood where he’d been, a gnarled hand clutching a sickle. “You’ve taken everything I cherish. I’m not afraid of you!” she shouted.
The sharp reply cut like a blade. “Foolish girl. You aren’t who I want.” The tray reappeared. The sheet dissolved, revealing Alec’s still face. “Your beloved knight is next on my list.”
“No!” Emily screamed, but nothing could drown out the deathly image or his horrific laughter.
She always woke with a jolt—sheets damp, throat raw, heart racing.
Even now, the memory of the nightmare felt physical.
She gripped the porcelain edge of the sink, forcing herself to breathe. The harsh buzz of the fluorescent light and the faint hum of water through the plumbing dampened the echo of that laughter.
“It’s just a bad dream,” she told her reflection.
Would anything, even repeated affirmations, ever dispel the haunting images?
She splashed cold water on her face and pinched her cheeks until a hint of color returned. The best concealer wouldn’t erase the shadows of exhaustion—today, she hadn’t even bothered.
“You really need to see someone,” she whispered.
She’d tried it once, years ago, but therapy took time and money she didn’t have.
Returning to the service hall, she slumped against the cool wall and closed her eyes, savoring a moment of silence. Maybe stopping by the house earlier in the week—chasing a late rent check—had dredged up the nightmare.Would she ever be able to enter the house she grew up in without being emotionally assaulted?
She should let it go. The rent barely covered the mortgage, the tax bill loomed, tuition was due, but she couldn’t bring herself to walk away. She didn’t have the heart to. Which was why she’d agreed to work her one night off for the week.
With a weary sigh, she straightened. Regina would fire her for slacking, and she couldn’t afford to lose this side work. She drew her practiced smile into place and returned to the grind.
The room smelled of citrus punch and the faint brine of shrimp cocktail. Champagne glasses chimed, laughter rose in waves, and the band, a pop trio, blared through the patio doors. The bass thudded in her chest, but it was the lyrics with sweet, saccharine promises that scraped her raw.
