Borrowed Beats and Broken Lies
Language: en
The moment cold sweat soaked through my silk pajamas, I bolted upright, gasping for air in the suffocating darkness. The blurry shadows of the room slowly sharpened. Daniel’s face was inches from mine, his expression unreadable, while the woman beside him—the one with the sharp, bobbed hair—reached out toward me. It was her. The woman who had haunted my dreams while I was unconscious. The phantom pain of a sudden cardiac arrest still seemed to tear at my nerves. The images from the dream surged back, uncontrollable: a sterile operating table, my own lifeless body, and the silhouette of…