Lina's POV
I woke to the smell of rain on old cedar and the sound of water lapping gently against a shore.
For one disoriented moment, before memory came crashing back, I thought I was somewhere safe.
The smell was familiar in a way that reached down past thought, past reason, into some buried part of me that recognized this place before my mind did.
Then my eyes focused, and my stomach dropped straight through the floor.
I knew this room.
I *knew* it.
The low wooden beams. The stone fireplace in the corner, cold and dark.
The wide bay window looking out over a lake I could have drawn from memory with my eyes closed. The mismatched armchairs. The reading nook built into the wall.
I'd sat in that nook a hundred times, a thousand, with a book in my lap and my leg
