AMARANTA POV
Someone, no, something was whispering my name shakily.
Just a thin thread of sound sliding through my dreams like cold fingers slipping under a door. They were back.
'Amaranta.'
My eyes opened before my mind fully understood why.
Darkness pressed softly against the bedroom walls, the faint blue-gray light of early dawn just beginning to seep through the curtains, that strange hour where the world feels suspended between night and morning, where everything is quiet enough that even your own heartbeat sounds too loud.
For a second I didn’t move.
Didn’t breathe. Couldn't.
Spirits had chased me everywhere in my life, but almost never in my dreams. They usually waited for me to be awake enough to have an heart attack, or maybe they just wanted to be sure I would hear them
