Left alone, Serena let the silence wrap around her like a cloak. The room was quiet. The hum of machines was gone, the rhythmic beep-beep-beep that had once anchored her to life no longer necessary. She drew in a slow, deliberate breath and exhaled just as slowly, feeling the weight in her chest lessen slightly, but not disappear.
Her memories were back now and complete. Every blurry edge sharpened, every shadow illuminated. She remembered Lucian's voice beside her bed, low and rough, sometimes gentle, sometimes desperate. But that wasn't what unsettled her. No, what bothered her was the fact that some of the things she recalled didn't make sense, at least not logically.
Lucian had said things she was certain she hadn't heard him say while awake. He had made promises that she hadn't asked for, hadn't even hinted at. Yet she remembered them as clearly as if they had been carved into her skin.
