The morning sun streamed into Ines's room, a bold, bright invasion that pierced through the heavy velvet curtains. It landed right on her face, warm and insistent.
Ines groaned. She turned away from the window, burying her face deep into the soft, down-filled pillow. She pulled the silk sheet up over her head, trying to create a small, dark cave where the day could not find her.
"It is morning already?" she whispered, her voice husky with sleep.
She didn't want to wake up. Waking up meant leaving the dreams. Waking up meant facing the bright, harsh light of reality where she was just Ines Hamilton, alone in her big bed.
But as her mind cleared, the memories of the previous night did not fade like dreams usually did. Instead, they sharpened. They rushed back to her with a clarity that made her breath hitch in her throat.
