*Isla*

“Rebecca?”

I can’t breathe. I’m trying to get oxygen into my lung, but nothing is happening. My head feels dizzy. My knees refuse to support my body, and the room around me spins.

Maddox’s hands are on my arms, holding me up. “Yes, Trinity looks very much like my dead wife.” The words come out of his mouth the same way that he might order soup or comment on the weather.

“But… but… but….” I can’t manage to form a coherent ...