Alessia's eyelids fluttered, heavy as fog.
The mirror in front of her shimmered with condensation, the steam curling around her like whispers from her dream.
She was standing, bare feet cold on the marble floor, hands gripping the edge of the sink.
Her mind replayed fragments of shadows, the child's voice, the locket pulsing like a heartbeat in her chest.
"Alessia."..... She heard her name.
The sound was low, deliberate, carrying a warmth that made her shiver even in the foggy morning light. Her eyes opened slowly.
It was Luca, her husband.
He was standing in the doorway, the early sun catching the sharp angles of his jaw, hair mussed from sleep.
The dark linen shirt clung to his frame, sleeves rolled just enough to hint at strength restrained.
His eyes were fixed on her, a mixture of amusement and concern.
"Why are you dreaming again?" His voice was soft, but threaded with authority, and it made her heart stumble.
