I curled my fingers around the latch and pushed it down. The door gave a low groan as it opened, just a sliver, and in that sliver—darkness. Thick and endless.
I leaned forward, shaking, my breath shallow—
And woke with a gasp.
The ceiling loomed above me, unfamiliar and dim. My hands flew to my face, damp with cold sweat. My nightshirt clung to my skin like I’d run for miles.
“Mavis?”
I flinched, jerking toward the voice. Talia sat on the edge of my bed, her small frame haloed in the soft glow of the wall lamp. Her wide eyes searched mine, concern etched in every line of her face.
“You okay?” she asked gently.
I dragged in a breath, forcing the tremor from my voice. “Yeah. Just… had a weird dream.”
Her head tilted, brassy hair slipping over her shoulder.
“My mother used to say dreams carry messages.”
Messages. The word crawled under my skin.
“Messages from whom?”
“From the beyond.”
“Like… the gods?”
“Sometimes,” she said, furrowing her brow. “The night my grandfather died, I dreamed he came to my bed. He held my hand and told me he loved me. When I woke up and learned that he had passed, Mama told me he had come to say goodbye.”
Unease coiled tight in my stomach. I didn’t want to think about it. Not now. Not when the echo of Willam’s voice still lingered in my ears.
Nothing good came of visions. I learned that long ago.
If that dream was even one to start with.
I swung my legs over the side of the bed, needing movement, needing anything but stillness. “Come on,” I said, forcing a thin smile. “Let’s go get breakfast.”
Chapter 29
“Do not blame others for the comfort you take in blindness.
It is your choice to remain in the dark when a torch has been lit.”
- The Old Book
The Facility - Day 4
“Good morning, participants! I hope you all have been faring well these past few days. I know it all must be quite an adjustment. Today, each of you will be summoned to the infirmary for some routine medical treatment…”
Marcum droned on about various other “activities” occurring in the facility, like this were all some sort of vacation. Like I was supposed to be having fun rather than fixated on my survival.
I already had my agenda for the day. I was finally going to find the library.
I discarded my breakfast tray and exited the dining hall with a reinvigorated sense of determination.
The corridor was brisker than usual. Or perhaps it was only my frail state. I was quick to shiver nowadays. Trailing my fingers along the wall as I walked, I felt the surface smooth under my skin. I tried to remember which turn led to the library—the third corridor on the left, or was it the second?
It all looked the same.
