The air was thick with the smell of smoke and metal. The world tilted at an unnatural angle, and through the broken glass of the windshield, little Teresa could see the streetlights flickering—almost mocking the chaos that surrounded her.
Her tiny chest rose and fell rapidly, her breathing shallow and ragged. The seatbelt bit into her shoulder, holding her trapped against the seat. Her head throbbed, a sharp pain screaming behind her eyes.
Beside her, her mother, Rosalie, lay motionless, her once beautiful face now drenched in blood. Teresa's breath caught in her throat as she reached for her mother's hand, her tiny fingers trembling.
"Mom...?" Teresa's voice broke through the chaos, but there was no response. Her mother didn't move.
"Mom, please…" Teresa cried out, her voice trembling with fear.
The world outside seemed to blur, the sounds of the crumpled car filling her ears—metal scraping against metal, a distant siren wailing in the background. Teresa could hear her father calling out, his voice filled with panic and desperation. "Rosalie! Rosalie!"
And then, she heard her brother's voice. Raquel. "Teresa! Teresa, where are you?!"
Tears blurred her vision as she fought to stay conscious, but her body felt like lead. The darkness threatened to pull her under. Her little chest was tight, her breathing growing more erratic.
She couldn't breathe.
Her asthma.
She gasped, trying to fill her lungs, but it was no use. Her eyes fluttered closed as the world around her faded into darkness.
Suddenly, Teresa jolted awake, her body drenched in sweat. She gasped for air, her chest heaving painfully as she clawed at her throat. The room around her spun—dark blue walls, the faint outline of her wardrobe, the curtains swaying lightly in the breeze.
"It's just a dream," she whispered to herself, her voice shaky. "It's just the nightmare again…"
The inhaler sat within reach on her bedside table. Her trembling hands gripped it tightly, pressing it to her lips. One deep breath… two deep breaths. The cool rush of air steadied her lungs, but her heart still thundered in her chest.
Teresa leaned back against the pillows, her gaze fixed on the ceiling. It always started the same way—the smell of smoke, the sight of her mother drenched in blood, and then… blackness. No matter how much time passed, the nightmares wouldn't leave her.
A gentle knock at her door broke the silence.
"Teresa?" Raquel's familiar voice came through, low and cautious. The door opened just a crack, and his silhouette appeared, framed by the dim hallway light.
"Did you have the nightmare again?" he asked softly, stepping inside.
Teresa didn't answer, wiping her tears quickly with the back of her hand.
Raquel sighed and sat on the edge of her bed, wrapping a strong arm around her shoulders. "It's okay, Tessa," he murmured, calling her by the name only he used. "It's over now. You're safe."
"I know," Teresa whispered, her voice barely audible. She leaned into his warmth, the familiar comfort of her brother's embrace easing her nerves.
After a moment, Raquel pulled away slightly to study her face. "You're pale. Want me to get you some water?"
"No. I'm fine," she lied.
He ruffled her dark, sweat-damp hair before standing up. "Try to get some sleep. Dad said we need to talk tomorrow. Something about visiting Uncle Zeun's family soon…"
Teresa blinked, a faint frown crossing her face. "The Ryleavonis?"
"Yeah." Raquel shrugged. "He didn't say much, but it sounded important."
As her brother left the room, closing the door quietly behind him, Teresa sank deeper into the bed, her mind racing.
The Ryleavonis. Childhood friends she hadn't seen in years.
Why now?
She turned her head to look out the window, where the faint glow of the city lights flickered against the dark sky. Life in Country X had been calm. For the first time since her mother's accident, things had finally felt… normal.
But a part of her—buried deep under the years of silence—knew this was just the calm before another storm.
And storms always came.
---