I held it close anyway.
Minutes passed. Or maybe hours.
Time blurred.
My body sagged against the chair leg, my head resting back as my eyelids grew heavier with every passing second.
My mind spun—images, memories, pain all bleeding together into something I couldn’t separate anymore.
And eventually—exhaustion won.
I didn’t mean to sleep.
Didn’t want to.
But the body betrays you when it’s pushed too far.
Darkness swallowed me whole.
I WOKE TO HOT, RANCIDbreath on my face.
My eyes snapped open instantly.
A man’s face hovered inches from mine—close enough that I could see the pores in his skin, the slight sheen of sweat, the faint stubble along his jaw.
My entire body jolted.
“—!”
A scream tore out of me, raw and instinctive, as I shoved him hard with both hands.
He staggered back.
Caught off balance.
I scrambled upright, my legs trembling violently beneath me as I tried to stand.
Pain detonated instantly through my knees.
I gasped, catching myself on the arm of the chair as my body swayed dangerously.
My vision blurred for a second.
Then cleared.
And I saw him.
Vasquez.
My father.
Standing a few steps away now, watching me with a cold, unreadable expression.
But his eyes—those hazel eyes—they burned.
Not with concern. Not with recognition.
But with something darker.
