Clara’s P.o.v

The clock had just slipped past two in the morning when my eyes snapped open, chest rising in shallow breaths as though I had been running in my dreams. Sweat dampened the back of my neck, my hair clung to my temples. For a moment, I didn’t know where I was. Darkness folded the room, but the hum of my laptop on the desk, the faint glow of the screen saver, and the taste of stale tea on my tongue reminded me I was in my small apartment, alone.

Alone. That word still has a way ...