Adina’s POV

I told myself I wouldn’t let the Witch win. Every morning I woke, drenched in sweat, my heart clawing against my ribs like it was trying to break free, and Nathan would be there, his hand brushing over my back, his voice steady and patient. “Tell me,” he would whisper, “what did you see?”

And every morning, I lied. “Nothing,” I said. Or, “Just the same old nightmare. It’s nothing serious.”

I hated lying to him. He deserved honesty. But how could I tell him ...