The first rays of dawn filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the room as Ophelia slowly stirred from her slumber.
Blinking away the remnants of sleep, she found herself nestled in the comfort of her bed, the events of the previous night still fresh in her mind.
As she sat up, her hand instinctively moved to cradle her stomach—a habit formed over months of pregnancy.
The room was bathed in the soft light of morning, a stark contrast to the eerie moonlit atmosphere of her dreams.
But as she rubbed her eyes and glanced around, the memories of her encounter with Viserra flooded back, vivid and unyielding.
The figure in the mirror, the cryptic conversation—they all felt too real to be dismissed as mere imagination.
A sense of unease settled in the pit of her stomach as she pondered the implications of her nocturnal visitation.
