Silence filled the space, disturbed only by the faint ticking of a clock out of sight. Raelynn lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. It had been some time since Sloane and Hera left, assuring her she needed rest. Yet, no matter how much she tried, sleep refused to come. Every time her eyelids fluttered shut, the man's face returned—his twisted smirk, his cold eyes. Her heart raced at the memory as if she were back in that moment.
Turning to her side, Raelynn rubbed her stomach gently. It brought her back to herself, reminding her of what mattered most. The baby was fine. Sloane had said so. Still, the thought of what could have happened made her feel sick. A lump formed in her throat, and her eyes blurred with tears. She swiped them away hastily, murmuring to herself, "It's okay. Everything's okay. We're fine now."
But saying the words didn't make them true. The dull throb in her chest remained, a constant reminder of the fear she had felt.
