Chapter Twenty-Nine
Alicia's POV
The nightmares came in waves.
I was eight years old again, standing in the doorway of our old apartment. My father was drunk, shouting words I didn't understand. My mother was crying, trying to calm him down while shielding me and my sister behind her.
Then the scene shifted. I was ten, and the bottle was shattering against the wall. Glass everywhere. My father's hand grabbing my arm. The sharp edge of the table. Pain. Blood.
The scar.
Then I was older. Fourteen. Standing in a hospital hallway. White walls. The smell of antiseptic. A doctor with sad eyes telling me my mother was gone. That the baby was gone too.
All gone.
The nightmare twisted again. Now I was in the present, in that hotel room, and my phone kept buzzing. Over and over. The same message.
Little Ghost. Long time, no see.
My father's voice echoed through the dream. Mocking. Cruel.
"You can't hide from me, little ghost. I always find you."
