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It was nauseating.
Ian turned to me.
But it wasn’t Ian.
It was David.
He leered and became Thomas.
I lifted my skirt and turned to flee, and like a streak, a figure moved from the back of the church, down the aisle, to stand at the foot of the altar.
I couldn’t make out her face.
She was wearing a fur-trimmed coat and cloche hat.
“But what about Rose?” she asked me.
I felt something touch my cheek.
I woke.
The room was dark as tar.
But there was someone in there with me.
I knew it.
I felt it.
My blood ran cold.
“Ian?” I whispered, knowing it wasn’t him.
Whoever it was closed the drapes, and he wouldn’t do that.
Through the dark, I saw a shadow move.
Blonde hair.
No.
Platinum.
Oh my God!
I reached for the light.
It knocked my hand away.
I was awake.
This was real.
And whatever that was, was close enough to touch me.
Horror-stricken, I scrambled over the bed and fell off the other side, slamming my head into the nightstand.
Pain darted through my temple into my eye as I crashed to the floor.
