Page 61 of Sage Haven
I woke with a start, a sharp gasp tearing from my throat like it had been locked in there for days.
My body was heavy— anchored by something invisible, something suffocating.
Weighted with exhaustion I couldn’t sleep off.
For a long moment, I laid there, staring at the ceiling, disoriented, heart racing, my mind trying to unscramble where I was.
Who I was.
I blinked slowly, trying to piece things together and attempting to breathe.
But then—I sawsomething strange.
Wildflowers.
A small cluster sat neatly on my nightstand.
Vivid against the muted grays of my apartment.
Too bright.
Too alive.
They shouldn’t have been here.
I hadn’t picked them.
I hadn’t brought them in.
My pulse stuttered.
I sat up, slow and stiff, as if moving too fast might shatter the fragile grip I had on reality.
For a second, I told myself it was fine.
Maybe I had left them there.
Maybe I was too tired to remember.
But then I turned my head.
And I saw them.
Everywhere.
Jars. Vases. Cups.
Overflowing with blooms.
Tucked into the spaces between books on the shelf.
Delicate petals spread like tiny, vibrant fingerprints all over my apartment.
I stared.
Frozen.
My heart hammered harder, each beat echoing in my skull.
