The room was silent, but my mind was loud. Every heartbeat echoed in my ears. Shadows clung to the corners, stretching toward me like they knew I couldn't fight them off.
I couldn't remember when the dreams had started-just that they came, again and again, pulling me into another life. A life where I wasn't myself, but I knew every face, every touch, every secret.
And him.
Julian. The man I barely remembered from my childhood-or perhaps had only ever existed in dreams-hovered at the edges of my mind. His presence was warm, quiet, protective. And impossible.
Because now I believed I was carrying a child.
I didn't know how it happened. I didn't want to know. All I knew was the certainty that clung to my bones like frost. Vivienne-my friend, my guide, my constant-denied it, of course. She said I was imagining things, that I was letting my mind betray me. But the dreams... the dreams said otherwise.
I could feel the weight of this unborn life even before anyone else would believe it. Every morning brought nausea, exhaustion, a strange tenderness I could not explain. The body obeyed the delusion as though it were real.
No one saw it. No one would see it.
And yet, I would prove them wrong.
I pressed my hand to my stomach, feeling nothing, yet imagining everything. A life existed there, silent but undeniable. And Julian... he had to know. He had to remember.
Because memory was a cruel trick. And I was losing mine to it.