Sasha woke with a sharp intake of breath, her body going still as if she had been dragged out of something that refused to let her go. For a few seconds, she didn’t move, her fingers tightening against the bedsheet while her heartbeat pounded harder than it should. It wasn’t the kind of fear she was used to. Fear was sharp, immediate, something you could fight or escape from. This… lingered. It stayed, quiet and heavy, like it belonged somewhere deeper than her thoughts.

She exhaled slowly and sat up, running a hand through her hair. “It’s just a dream,” she muttered, though even she didn’t believe it anymore. Lately, sleep had started to feel less like rest and more like a place she was being pulled into without choice. And every time, there was something waiting for her there.