Elena's POV
Callum didn't let go.
His hand rubbed slow circles on my back, grounding me in the now, but my mind was still caught somewhere between sleep and fear.
I pulled back eventually, breathing shallow, my fingers curling around the sheets like they were the only thing keeping me from falling apart.
"It felt real," I said, eyes locked on the floor. "Her voice. The way she looked at me. The gun."
I shook my head. "Everything."
Callum sat beside me, not rushing me.
"Sometimes dreams are just dreams, Elena."
"But this one wasn't," I whispered. "I felt the heat of the gun. I felt the pain. I heard her say she'd kill me."
His silence said enough.
He didn't believe it was just a dream either.
"I know it's crazy," I continued. "She's in prison. But something about it—something in the way it played out—like I was being warned. Like someone wanted me to remember."
"Remember what?"
I looked up at him.
"That I'm still not safe."
