She looked directly at me.
“You’re not supposed to be here,” she whispered.
I spun.
In the mirror behind her, Thorne’s reflection stared back at me.
His lips parted.
“Elira?” he breathed.
**
I jolted awake, heart slamming against my ribs.
My cell was dark. Cold. Real.
What the hell was that?
Outside the door—movement. A breath. A shift of weight.
I rose slowly and pressed a hand to the wall.
“Thorne?” I whispered.
The air went still. Then—
A sharp inhale. Like someone had just been pulled from deep water.
Like he’d been dreaming, too.
I stayed there, palm pressed to the cold iron, heart thudding.
He’d felt it. I knew he had.
That breath—it wasn’t just surprise. It was recognition.
“Thorne,” I said again. “Did you… did you see that too?”
He didn’t answer. But I could feel he was listening.
“I was in your head just then, wasn’t I? Why?” I asked. “Did you do something?”
“No.” Soft. Hollow. A denial, or something else—I couldn’t tell.
“You have a sister,” I said, not quite asking. “Allison. Right?”
“Don’t.” His voice cut through the dark like a blade. Not anger. Fear.
“Don’t what?” I asked. “Talk about her? Why not? Does it hurtyouto remember someone you loved?”
Silence.
“She seemed kind,” I said after a moment. “She was crying. And you stood in front of her like the world couldn’t touch her. You fought for her.”
I swallowed hard.
“Why won’t you fight for me?”
