17. Isabel

17

ISABEL

I ’m small again.

The room is dark, the shadows on the walls stretching long and thin like claws. My breathing is shallow, like my lungs can’t take in enough air.

I don’t know what I was dreaming about, but it doesn’t matter. I’m awake now, and I’m scared.

Tears sting my eyes, but I don’t dare make a sound.

“ Isa ?”

The voice is soft and warm, like the sun breaking through a storm.

I turn my head and see Valeria sitting on the edge of my bed. Her blonde hair falls over her shoulders. She looks older than I am, but not by much. Still , there’s something about her that feels safe.

“ I’m here.” She reaches out and brushes the damp strands from my forehead. “ It’s okay. You’re okay.”

I can’t find the words to respond, so I just nod, biting my lip to keep from crying.

She slips under the blanket beside me and pulls me into her arms. “ Shh ,” she whispers, rocking me gently. “ You’re not alone. I’m here.”

* * *

I wake up with a start. My body feels heavy, sluggish, and for a moment, I can’t tell where I am.

Then , I feel a hand smoothing over my hair, a low, soothing voice murmuring words I can’t quite make out.

“ Shh ... it’s okay. You’re okay.”

The words cut through the fog of sleep, and I freeze, panic flaring in my chest.

I force my eyes open, blinking against the faint light in the room. It takes a moment for my vision to clear, but when it does, I see Maxwell .

He’s sitting on the edge of the bed, his arms wrapped around me, holding me close.

I pull back slightly, startled but no longer scared. There’s something about the way he looks at me that feels... safe.

“ What —” My voice comes out hoarse. “ What are you doing?”

He doesn’t let go, his hands still resting lightly on my shoulders. “ You were having a nightmare,” he says simply. “ Thrashing around, mumbling. Thought I’d wake you before you hurt yourself.”

I blink at him, my mind still trying to catch up. I was dreaming? The memory of Valeria’s voice lingers in my mind like a phantom.

“ I ... I didn’t mean to?—”

“ You don’t have to explain.”

For a moment, we just sit there in silence. His presence is grounding, and I hate how much I don’t want him to let go.

Eventually , I find my voice again. “ How did you even?—”

“ Door wasn’t locked,” he interrupts with a small smile. “ Heard you from down the hall.”

I narrow my eyes at him, finally finding a shred of annoyance to cling to.

He smirks, the softness in his expression fading back into his usual cocky demeanor. “ What can I say? I’m a light sleeper.”

I roll my eyes and push his hands away, sitting up straighter. “ Well , I’m fine now. You can go.”

He doesn’t move, his gaze searching mine like he’s trying to see past my words. Then , he nods, standing up and stretching lazily.

“ Sweet dreams, Starling ,” he says with a wink before heading for the door.

I glare at his back, but the warmth in my chest doesn’t quite match the irritation in my expression.

As the door clicks shut behind him, I lay back down, staring at the ceiling. The memory of Valeria’s voice still echoes in my mind, but now, it’s joined by Max’s .

You’re not alone. I’m here.

I hate the way it makes me feel.

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