Becca woke slowly, dragged out of sleep by a dull ache that seemed to live in her bones.It was the kind of ache that wasn’t born of injury alone, but of tension held too long. Her body felt heavy, as though the bed itself had swallowed her halfway, reluctant to leave her alone.Becca’s stomach twisted violently.She turned onto her side, her breath catching as nausea fluttered briefly through her. Instinctively, her hand drifted downward, resting low against her abdomen. The movement was unconscious like an act of protection she didn’t even think about anymore.Her fingers curled there, gentle, like she was trying to get find out if her child was still there.She lay still, listening to the slow rhythm of her own breathing, grounding herself the way she had learned to do long before Blackwood mansion, long before Desmond and his throne of fear. Her gaze traveled up to the ceiling, tracing the thin lines as though they formed some secret map only she could read.She must have fallen
Dernière mise à jour : 2026-01-27 Read More