MARSHALL’S POV
The night felt like flipping through an old photo album filled with memories I wished I could forget. My room echoed with the quiet sadness of a heart left alone, and the ticking of the clock seemed to match the slow ache within me.
Finally, sleep found me, but it wasn’t a comforting escape. It was more like stepping into a dream where time didn’t quite follow the rules, and the echoes of the past played on a loop.
In the dream, Freya appeared, uncertainty in her eyes mirroring the broken connection between us. The world around us shifted like a dance of shadows and light. Her voice, like a soft wind carrying memories, reached out.
"Marshall," she said, her words like a haunting song. "Time folds upon itself, showing the threads that tie us through ages."
The dream unfo
