I woke before the sun.
The first thing I noticed was the silence — the kind that presses on your ears until you start to hear your own heartbeat. The second thing was the light, a thin silver glow slipping through the cracks of the shutters. It painted lines across the floorboards of my small room at the inn, soft and cold.
I hadn't really slept. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw him — Rafael — standing in the mist, just out of reach. The whisper that had pulled me from sleep hours ago still clung to the air. I'd tried to tell myself it wasn't real, just my mind playing tricks, but deep down I wasn't sure.
I swung my legs out of bed and rubbed my eyes. My reflection in the mirror looked hollow, almost unrecognizable — hair tangled, skin pale, eyes rimmed with sleeplessness. I had been chasing shadows for so long that I'd started to look like one myself.
