As the first light of dawn filtered through the curtains, Leena's eyes fluttered open. Her body felt strangely sore, her skin tingling in places where the dream had touched her.
She sat up slowly, the quilt slipping down her bare shoulders. A deep breath filled her lungs, but something felt… different.
The eerie presence from the night before was gone.
The room was silent. Too normal. Too still.
Shaking off the lingering sleep, she stretched her arms—only to freeze when her eyes landed on her reflection in the dresser mirror.
Bruises.
Faint, but unmistakable, they trailed along her collarbones, her arms, her thighs. Marks left behind as if someone had been holding her down, touching her.
Her heart pounded violently. It was just a dream… wasn't it?
Swallowing hard, she clutched the quilt tighter around her, her mind racing. There was no one in the room. The wardrobe was still shut. Nothing felt wrong anymore.
And yet…
She couldn't shake the feeling that something had touched her in ways it shouldn't have.
Something that wasn't just a dream.