When I left Emory's suite with all the answers I didn't want and incapable of deciding whether I believed her or not, I was so consumed, I barely looked at Ash as I walked out.
He shadowed me down the hall to my suite, then insisted on searching the rooms again, even though he would have seen someone enter from his position down the hall with Ernst. But I was too preoccupied to argue, so I stood just inside the door while he made sure everything was safe.
"Zara, what's wrong? What happened with Emory?" he asked when he'd finally freed me to move around and I took a seat on the couch, pulling my feet up next to me, heedless of how the skirts would wrinkle. I hugged a small, decorative pillow to my chest and tried to get my head straight.
My very sore muscles kept pressing in on me. Reminders of the tangible nature of this place. The way I still had all the urges, pains, and boring drags of a real life, even though it was a dream.
