"Who?"
"My dream man," Melania said softly, her voice almost reverent. "He often appears in my dreams… protecting me in the land of the Mannequin." A faint smile tugged at her lips as she recalled the images in her mind.
"Oh, right—you've told me about him before," Iris said, tilting her head. "The man of your dreams."
"Yes. He resembles—" Melania began, but Iris cut her off sharply.
"Okay, enough. Let's just sleep." Iris shivered, pulling the blanket higher around her shoulders. She didn't want to hear more. Something about Melania's dreams always left her uneasy.
Melania lay back on her pillow, still smiling faintly. I hope to see you again tonight, she thought. If you're really him… And in the privacy of her mind, she whispered the name she never dared say aloud. Brando.
