The rain outside tapered off hours ago, leaving behind only the occasional drip from the eaves and the distant whisper of waves against the shore. Inside her mind, something darker brewed—a tempest that refused to settle.
Sleep arrived reluctantly, dragging her under like an undertow she couldn’t fight.
The dream began like a memory.
She was back at the front desk of the B&B, the worn carpet beneath her feet, the whiff of cheap air freshener mixed with mildew. Rain smeared the windows in thick rivulets, turning the world into a watercolor blur. Guests paced in the small lobby, their voices rising in angry crescendos that made her shoulders tense and her teeth clench.
Chester loomed behind her—too close, always too close.
His cologne invaded her space, a sickeningly sweet musk that turned her stomach even before things got bad. Heat radiatedfrom his body, telling her where he was without her turning around.
“You messed up the blocks again,” he sneered, his breath hot and moist against her neck, making her skin crawl. “You think I’m going to keep covering for you? You think you’re worth the trouble?”
Her heart pounded so hard she felt it in her throat, her fingertips, behind her eyes. But when she spun around, the desk was gone. Vanished. The lobby transformed into a hallway that stretched long and narrow, like the school corridors from her childhood. Cold. Colorless. Endless.
The fluorescent lights overhead flickered and buzzed, casting sickly yellow pools that left too many shadows between them. Her breath came in shallow gasps, misting in the now frigid air.
A sound echoed down the hall—an indistinct, brittle clink.
A single seashell skittered across the floor ahead of her, spinning as it rolled. One of her favorites, the pale pink one she’d found in her first week at Ivory Sands. Now it sat broken, cracked down the middle, the pieces held together by nothing but memory.
Terror seized her lungs.
She ran.
Her bare feet slapped against icy tile, each step sending shocks of cold up through her legs. Doors lined the hallway on both sides, stretching into infinity. Each one marked with a different word, the letters carved into the wood like accusations she could never escape.
Liar.
Thief.
Stupid.
Whore.
The words burned themselves into her vision, into her mind, branding her with all the names she’d been called, all the things she feared she would never escape.
The last door stood ajar, and the word on it made her blood turn to slush:Property.
She didn’t want to go in. Everything in her screamed to run the other way, to wake up, to escape. But her feet moved, dragging her forward like she was tethered to an invisible rope. Like she had no choice. Like she’d never had a choice.
Inside, Chester waited.
The room was small and windowless; the walls pressed in on all sides. He stood in the center, smiling that smile most thought charming but now looked predatory. In his hand, he held a gold key gleaming under the harsh overhead light—a key that looked like the one David kept on his server rack.
The incongruity of it tried to penetrate her panic, but the fear was too thick, too overwhelming.
“This is who you are, Lena,” Chester said, his voice calm and venomous, each word deliberate. “They’ll all see it eventually. David will see it. You can’t hide what you are forever.”
The walls closed in. Literally. They moved inward, shrinking the room, stealing the air. Her hands wouldn’t move, wouldn’t rise to push him away. Her mouth wouldn’t open to scream for help. She tried—god, how she tried—but her limbs were thick as wet sand, heavy and useless.
Chester stepped forward with slow, measured movements, savoring her paralysis. His hand reached out, and she wanted to flinch, to run, to fight, but she stood frozen. His finger lifted her chin with practiced ease, forcing her to look into eyes that held both contempt and the sickening gleam of unhealthy lust.
“Tell me you’re sorry,” he said, as if he were commenting on the weather. “Beg. You know you want to. You know you deserve this.”
“Don’t touch me—” she tried to say, but her voice fractured, splintering into pieces that fell silent before they could form words. The sound came out as nothing but a choked whimper.
His smile widened. The walls pressed closer. The air thinned. Darkness crept in from the edges of her vision. And then?—
