I’m still on the couch, elbows on knees, head heavy in my hands. The silence presses in around me.
Then I hear it. A sound sharp enough to slice through the air.
A cry. Muffled at first. Then another—hoarse, panicked.
“Della?”
I bolt upright, heart in my throat.
And then again. Louder this time. Frantic.
“No—no, please—don’t—”
I’m already running, taking the stairs two at a time, fear twisting through my gut. Her door is slightly ajar. I push it open.
She’s in bed, but she’s not asleep.
She’s trapped.
Sheets tangled around her legs, body curled in on itself like she’s trying to make herself disappear. Her arms raised, fending off something that isn’t there. Tears stream down her face.
“No,” she sobs. “Stop. Please, stop…”
God.
I rush to her side, kneeling by the bed, frozen for a second. Do I touch her? Say her name? Her whole body shakes. Her face is contorted in pain I can’t begin to imagine.
It’s a nightmare. Maybe more than that.
“Della,” I whisper, voice cracking. “I’m here. You’re safe. I’ve got you.”
But she doesn’t hear me. Or maybe she can’t.
Whatever she’s reliving in the dark…
I’ll stay until it ends.
Chapter 14
THE NIGHTMARE
What was broken can never be undone. What remains can still become whole
Della
The flight touches down with a groan of tired engines and a thud that rattles through my bones. Four hours late.
I’ve been traveling for what feels like a lifetime—Chicago to Frankfurt, then the long, dragging connection home. Frankfurt was a blur of rushing gates and low-battery anxiety, but I managed to charge my phone just enough to send Dad a quick message before boarding:
“Delays. Don’t wait. I’ll take a cab.”
Alexandra’s still in Spain. And this isn’t the first time I’ve taken a taxi home.
It’s close to midnight now. The air is heavy and smells like warm concrete and something bitter I can’t name. I stand outside the tiny terminal, suitcase handle slick in my palm, feeling utterly out of place, although I’m technically… home.
There are only two taxis waiting under a flickering streetlamp, engines idling in the dark.
“Della?”
