For a moment there was nothing. Just a heavy, breathless darkness that pressed against Verona's ribs like a hand trying to stop her heart from beating. Then a sharp, invisible jerk pulled her up from the depths of sleep.
She woke up with a gasp.
Not the soft flutter of someone rising reluctantly from a pleasant dream, but a full-bodied jolt, her spine bowing as if she'd been dragged from deep underwater. Her fingers clenched the sheets, twisting the fabric so tightly it left lines on her palms. Her breath came in frantic, uneven bursts, like her own lungs couldn't decide how to behave.
For half a second she didn't know where she was.
The room was dim, washed in the warm, amber glow of the bedside lantern. Shadows moved softly on the walls whenever the flame flickered. Everything was familiar and unfamiliar at once, like a memory she couldn't fully trust.
A nightmare? No. Something worse than that.
