I couldn’t bring myself to look at him. Guilt settled heavy in my chest. No wonder he’d fought so hard for me. No wonder he’d gone head-to-head with my father, no hesitation. He didn’t just want me — his soul needed me. He couldn’t leave me behind, because some part of him already knew what I was to him.
Elias handed me a cup of coffee, his eyes searching mine with concern. “How are you feeling now?” he asked softly.
“I’m alright, I guess,” I murmured, wrapping my hands around the warm mug. “That dream just really messed with my head.”
“Do you still think it was real? That your mother actually came to you?” he questioned, voice gentle but laced with skepticism.
“Yes. And I’m not crazy,” I snapped back defensively, sitting a little straighter. He needed to understand that I wasn’t makin
