A shiver crawled over my skin.
I staggered toward the bed, collapsing onto it, gripping the bedspread, and wrapping it tightly around myself.
As if the fabric could shield me from whatever the hell Malik was.
And whatever spell he had just cast over me.
His words tangled in my mind, refusing to make sense. How strangely our lives had become intertwined. I struggled to fit the puzzle pieces together, but exhaustion pulled me down, dragging me into sleep.
A rapid knocking jolted me from a deep, dreamless slumber.
I groaned, rubbing my fists against my eyes to shake off the sluggish fog in my brain. “Who is it?”
“It’s me! Emily!”
“And Rosie!” came the little girl’s excited voice.
I smiled groggily. “Come in, come in!”
I folded the bedspread back and swung my legs to the floor as a yawn escaped me.
Emily and Rosie burst into the room like two chirping birds, their energy almost offensive compared to my sluggishness. Both were dressed in clean, new clothes—tailored for them, by the look of it.
“We were so exhausted at dinner, weren’t we?” Emily flounced toward me, her skirts swishing. “I slept like a princess in a palace.”
“I love this place!” Rosie declared, jumping onto the bed in an explosion of giggles. “Isn’t it wonderful?”
She scrambled to her feet and bounced on the mattress.
I reached for her mid-air, catching her around the waist as she landed. “I’m not as awake as you are, Rosie.” I laughed sleepily, pulling her close. “Why don’t you just sit next to me?”
She sighed dramatically but snuggled into my side.
Emily perched on my other side, tilting her head as she studied me. “How did you sleep, sister?”
Another yawn slipped from my lips as the memories of the night before rushed back—Malik’s presence, hands on my throat, unreadable gaze, and how his voice had entwined itself into my thoughts.
“I had nightmares,” I admitted, pressing my fingers lightly to my neck. The ghost of Malik’s touch lingered there, a secret I wasn’t ready to share. “Horrible dreams of fire devouring my family.”
Emily’s expression softened with concern, but before she could respond, I continued, my fingers brushing over the dagger at my waist.
“I woke up missing Roman so much. And then I remembered—our daggers bind us. I used it to find him.”
Emily gasped. “Oh, Olivia! All this time, you could have known! What did you discover?”
She pushed the hair back from my face, her eyes alight with urgency.
I turned, clasping her hands tightly. My heart ached with the words I was about to say.
“Roman’s alive,” I revealed. “And so is Papa.”
Tears blurred my vision.
Emily let out a soft, shocked gasp.
“Oh, sister!” She clutched my hands, squeezing them tightly. “Your father is alive!”
“Yes, they’re both together in my future,” I said, my heart swelling at the memory. “Roman is learning how to use the devices of my time. I’m sure he’s bewildered.”
