FREYA’S POV
The first light of dawn was hesitant, casting a feeble glow into Freya's bedroom. It was a room that, under normal circumstances, would have been a haven of peace and rest. However, this morning, it echoed with the restless whispers of a troubled soul.
Freya stirred in her sleep, a battle waged in her dreams mirroring the conflict that raged within her waking hours. The dawn, usually a symbol of hope and renewal, only intensified the shadows that clung to her consciousness.
As she opened her eyes to the subdued light, a heaviness settled in her chest. It wasn't just the weight of fatigue; it was the burden of emotions left unaddressed, the residue of unresolved turmoil that refused to be exorcised in the quiet of the night.
The room itself seemed to hold its breath, as if i
