The photo mocked me—Dominic smiling brightly, Helena glowing beside him.
I stood frozen, my heart emptied of everything.
So that was why he never married me. Why every promise faded into nothing.
But I didn’t cry.
There were no tears left to give. Love had burned itself out.
Because in five days, I would be dead.
And when I was gone—every single one of them would finally feel the weight of what they’d done.
The fever wrapped around me like iron restraints, scorching me from the inside. My body shook uncontrollably beneath the covers, sweat seeping through the thin sheets, clinging to my skin. But the heat wasn’t what tortured me the most.
It was the dream.
Adrian.
He stood before me, smiling the way he always had—wide, playful, full of life. That familiar grin that made everything feel safe. We were back on the mountain trails, the air crisp, the sky endless. His fingers laced through mine as he pulled me forward, laughing.
“Hurry up, Seraphina,” he teased. “Don’t be afraid. I’ve got you. I won’t let you fall.”