Too real.
But it can’t be.
I’m still dreaming. Still trapped in my own mind, reaching for something—someone—to hold onto.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t strong enough,” I whisper, the words trembling on my lips.
Even they taste like failure.
I squeeze my eyes shut, harder this time, like pressure alone could collapse me into nothing. I want to dissolve into the dark—the kind that doesn’t ache, that doesn’t carry the imprint of Lea’s stare, wide with the pain I couldn’t prevent.
The heaviness crawls across my chest, settles in my throat, coils around every limb until I forget how to move, forget how to breathe.
Sleep pulls at me, insistent and unkind, like a tide that doesn’t ask permission.
I let it.
Let it drown the images still flickering behind my eyelids, let it pull me under where silence feels merciful. Because what waits on the other side—whatever mess, memory, consequence—I can’t face it.
Not like this.
Not yet.
“Nell? Can you hear me?”
No.
This has to be a dream.
There’s no way I’m awake right now.
I squeeze my eyes shut tighter, clinging to the illusion. Whatever this is—whatever warmth or softness I’ve stumbled into—I don’t want it to end. Not yet. Not when the alternative is waking back into pain.
“Nell?”
The voice again. Closer this time.
And then—fingers. Gentle. Careful. Brushing hair from my face like I’m something fragile.
That touch is too real.
My body jolts, the instinct to fight taking over. I startle awake, breath catching in my throat, preparing for what is to come.
Everything hits at once—light, sound, pain.
My heart stutters in uneven beats, thudding against my ribs like it’s trying to escape. My throat is raw, dry as sandpaper. My head pulses with a deep, nauseating ache.
I need something—anything—to dull it. The drugs they gave me before… they were the only thing that made the pain bearable. The only thing that made me forget.
But now I feel everything.
Every bruise. Every tear. Every place where my body no longer feels like mine.
I try to move, but even that feels foreign. Like I’m wearing someone else’s skin.
And then I see him.
Cam.
