A room filled with stacked books—some opened halfway, others piled carelessly beside the bed.
Though dawn had yet to break, Viola was already awake.
When did she fall asleep?
She had planned to stay up the entire night, reading through the mountain of books she'd been neglecting. But somewhere between one paragraph and the next, exhaustion had quietly taken over.
Maybe that was why… she'd ended up dreaming about that time again.
It had been years since that dream last came to her, yet the moment it did, it was as vivid as ever—so real she could almost feel the cold air of that night on her skin.
Viola sat up slowly, pressing a hand to her temple. The remnants of sleep clung to her mind like mist. Her other hand brushed against her cheek, and she realized her eyes were damp.
She let out a quiet breath.
Those memories... no matter how much she wanted to bury them, they never truly faded. They lingered in the corners of her mind, like scars that refused to heal.
