I walked up to our room to find Liza already asleep in our bed. As I got changed, my thoughts kept circling back to thephotos of her and the horrifying possibility of her being sold off. The thought of my sweet Liza being auctioned off to the highest bidder like some kind of commodity filled me with an unparalleled rage. I needed to find answers, and fast.
Once I slipped into bed as quietly as I could, I watched Liza toss and turn in her sleep, moaning softly. My heart ached for her. She’d been so restless lately. As much as I hated it, I knew it was best not to put any more burdens on her.
72
LIZA
The dream began like a soft watercolor, hues blending together as a scene from my early childhood took shape. I looked to be about three or four years old, and the world seemed so much bigger, brighter, and full of possibilities. The grass was cool beneath my small feet, tickling my toes as I ran across the lawn. Sunlight filtered through the trees, dappling my pale blonde hair with golden spots.
Beside me, a little boy giggled as we played together. Although his features were strikingly similar—that same blonde hair and bright blue eyes that could pierce your soul—I knew for sure it wasn’t Castro. We were playing tag, our laughter echoing through the air as we chased each other in circles.
“Can’t catch me,” he teased, sticking his tongue out playfully while darting around a tree.
I giggled, the innocent sound bubbling up from deep within my belly, and chased him as fast as my little legs would carry me.
Somehow, even in my dream, I knew this to be an actual memory. I recognized the pure joy that only comes with the innocence of childhood.
“Watch me!” I called out, my youthful confidence shining through. My chest tightened with excitement as I closed the distance between us, my small hand reaching out to touch his shoulder.
Just as I was about to tag him, he whirled around and scooped me into his arms, spinning us both around in a dizzying whirlwind of laughter and sunlight. I squealed in delight, the feeling of weightlessness thrilling me to my core.
“Gotcha,” he declared triumphantly as he set me back on the ground, a mischievous grin plastered across his face.
I laughed, the warmth of our friendship radiating through me like sunshine.
“Aw, you win.” I was panting slightly. “I get you next.”
“Deal.” He nodded solemnly, extending his pinky finger toward me in a childish gesture of agreement. I hooked my own pinky around his, sealing our pact with an air of importance that only children can truly understand.
“Pinky promise?” I asked, my eyes wide and searching as I sought reassurance in his gaze.
“Promise.” The conviction in his voice solidified our bond. We stood there for a moment, simply basking in the joy of each other’s company, before collapsing onto the grass in another fit of giggles.
We lay side by side, our fingers intertwined and our breaths mingling in the warm summer air. I was at peace in the dream—something I hadn’t experienced in a very long time. It was a fleeting moment, a snapshot of innocence captured within the confines of a dream, but it was beautiful, and real, and it belonged to me.
Slowly, the colors faded, the edges of the dream blurring as reality called me back from the depths of slumber. The bright sunlight dimmed to the soft gray light of morning filtering through the curtains of the master suite. Laughter echoedone final time before dissipating into silence, leaving only the faintest trace of memory in its wake.
I blinked, disoriented and confused as the remnants of the dream clung to the edges of my consciousness. Who was that boy? Why had he appeared in my dreams now, after all these years? I tried to hold on to the memory, to grasp at the fading strands of emotion and connection, but it all slipped through my fingers like sand, lost to the reality of waking up as an adult. Not just any adult, but one who heard voices in her head and saw figures no one else could see.
I stared up at the ceiling, grappling with the strange sense of longing that tugged at my melancholy heart. I sighed. Yet another mystery for which I had no answers. That dream, that moment of pure happiness, had been a gift, and a glimpse into a past I could never reclaim.
“You okay?” Ty’s voice broke through my thoughts, and I turned my head to see him watching me intently, concern etched into the lines of his face. Guilt coiled like a snake in my insides. Yet another morning I’d woken to see worry across my mate’s handsome features.
“Fine,” I said, smoothing away the worry lines on his forehead with my fingers. I forced a smile and pushed the lingering echoes of the dream to the back of my mind. “Just a weird dream, that’s all.”
“Want to talk about it?” Ty offered gently as he brushed a stray strand of hair from my face.
I hesitated, then shook my head. I didn’t want to delve into the memories just yet. “Not right now,” I said softly. “Maybe later.”
“Okay.” Ty pressed a soft kiss to my forehead, his love and support a warm embrace. “Whenever you’re ready.”
I headed to the bathroom to begin my morning routine, pushing thoughts of the dream aside. I stared at the bags undermy eyes, a testament to my disturbed night. Groaning, I turned on the faucet and splashed cold water onto my face, hoping the shock of it would wash away the lingering fatigue.
Next up was brushing my teeth, and the rhythmic motion had a soothing effect on my jangled nerves. After rinsing my mouth, I began working through the tangles in my hair, wincing as I encountered several particularly stubborn knots. More proof—as if I needed it—of my restless sleep.
I heard Ty take a call from the bedroom, his voice suddenly low and serious. He’d put it on speaker, allowing me to catch snippets of a male voice. It belonged to the security guard stationed at the front gate of the estate. When I heard the word “problem”, my stomach churned. As if we needed any more issues.
“Stay there,” Ty instructed firmly before hanging up, worry darkening his features. “Liza, can you come out here?”
