I woke up with a gasp.

The sound tore out of my throat before I could swallow it, sharp and desperate, echoing against the damp walls that caged me in. My chest rose and fell like I’d just run for miles, lungs dragging in the stale air of the room that had become my prison. My hands trembled where they clutched the thin blanket, damp with sweat, the fabric clinging to my skin as though it too refused to let me breathe.

It had been a dream.

But the cruelest thing about dreams was how ...