Night has fallen over the city like a heavy blanket. Elisa sleeps poorly. Blurry images haunt her: cold hands, a voice whispering her name. When she wakes, a damp sensation lingers on her lips. Was it a dream? Or... a memory?
She slowly sits up in bed. Her heart beats too fast for just a restless night. She looks around. Everything is quiet. Too quiet. Clara's journal is there, lying on the nightstand. She opens it.
A new page. Black with ink. She never wrote it.
One sentence.
"You've wanted him. Even before death."
Her hands tremble.
She slams the journal shut.
In the mirror, her reflection looks strange. Her cheeks flushed. Her lips swollen. As if... someone had kissed them. Right now.
An image flashes through her mind. Blurry. But violent.
Adrien.
His body against hers. His fingers on her bare skin. His breath on her neck.
She moans.
Then wakes up a second time, sweating. All of it... was it just another dream?
Or maybe...
Someone really entered her room that night.