Clare POV
I woke up in my own bed. The soft, familiar comfort of the blankets wrapped around me felt so real, so normal. The sun was peeking through the window, casting a warm, golden light across the room. I thought I was dreaming. The kind of dream where everything feels too good to be true. A part of me was afraid to open my eyes, afraid that as soon as I did, I would find myself back in the nightmare.
I pinched my arm hard, testing reality, and flinched as the pain flared.
It was real.
And it was. I was awake.
But something was... off. A sense of disorientation, like the world around me was too perfect. Too quiet.
The door creaked open, and my breath caught.
Clark.
I blinked, my heart stuttering in my chest. Clark was standing in the doorway, smiling, looking exactly like he had before he—before everything.
"Hey, chap, breakfast is ready," he said, grinning like nothing had changed.
