Chapter 49 – Shadows in My Sleep
Sam's POV
I didn’t mean to fall asleep.
After Declan’s midnight “meeting”—all intimidation and smug glares—I thought I’d lie awake until morning, staring holes in the ceiling. But exhaustion dragged me under faster than I could fight it.
And that’s when the dream started.
It wasn’t like the usual ones, where my sister’s face flickered in fragments, half-shadow, half-memory. This time, it felt… sharper. Realer.
She was sitting on the swing set behind our old house. The rusty chains groaned as she rocked back and forth, her dark hair lifting in the night breeze. She wore her favorite hoodie—blue, too big, sleeves swallowing her hands.
For a second, I forgot it was a dream. For a second, I believed she was actually there.
“Hey,” she said, grinning at me, dimples flashing. “Took you long enough.”
My throat tightened. “You’re… you’re not supposed to be here.”
She laughed, light and easy. “Yeah, well. Neither are you, technically. Snooping around places you don’t belong. Sound familiar?”
I froze. “How do you know about that?”
Her eyes twinkled like she was keeping a secret. “I know everything. I’ve been watching you.”
My chest squeezed. “You suffered because of them. Because of this school. And now… I’m here.”
She tilted her head. “Revenge won’t bring me back, Sam.”
Her words stung sharper than any blade. “Don’t say that. You don’t understand.”
“Don’t I?” Her voice softened, her swing slowing. “You think I wanted this for you? To bury yourself in anger? To risk everything just to chase ghosts?”
“I’m not chasing ghosts,” I snapped. “I’m finding the truth. For you.”
She hopped off the swing, feet landing softly on the grass. She walked closer, until we were face-to-face. Her smile had faded. “What happens when the truth destroys you too?”
My throat closed. “Then… at least I’ll be with you.”
Her expression broke, pain flashing across her features. She reached up, cupping my cheek. Her hand was warm. Too warm for a dream. “Don’t say that. Don’t you dare.”
Tears blurred my vision. “You left me.”
Her voice cracked. “I didn’t want to.”
I couldn’t breathe. My knees buckled, but she caught me, pulling me into her arms. She smelled like rain and old books, like home. “Please,” I whispered into her shoulder. “Tell me what happened. Tell me who did this to you.”
She leaned down, lips at my ear. “It wasn’t who you think.”
The ground lurched. The world around us flickered, colors draining, sound warping.
I gasped, reaching for her—but she was already fading, her figure dissolving like mist.
“Wait!” I cried. “Don’t leave me again!”
Her voice echoed, distant now. “Be careful who you trust…”
Then darkness swallowed everything.
I jolted awake, chest heaving, drenched in sweat. The dorm room was dim, moonlight spilling through the blinds. My blanket was twisted around me like I’d fought it in my sleep.
Across the room, Elias stirred. He was sitting up, eyes on me, like he’d been awake for a while.
“You were talking in your sleep,” he said quietly.
I wiped my face with trembling hands. “What did I say?”
His gaze flickered, unreadable. “You called a name. Over and over.”
My stomach dropped. “What name?”
He hesitated. “Lily.”
The breath punched out of me. My sister’s name.
I scrambled for a lie. “Lily's… just someone I used to know.”
Elias’s eyes narrowed. “You expect me to believe that?”
“It’s the truth.” My voice cracked, betraying me.
He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, studying me like I was a puzzle he was desperate to solve. “Sam, you don’t talk in your sleep unless it’s something buried deep. Whoever Lily is… she matters. A lot.”
I hugged my knees to my chest, trying to keep myself from unraveling. “You wouldn’t get it.”
“Then explain it.”
“I can’t.”
His jaw tightened. “Because you don’t trust me.”
I flinched. “That’s not it.”
“Isn’t it?” His tone was sharp, but underneath it, I caught something else. Something like hurt. “Every time I get close, you push me away. Every time I try to understand, you shut me out. What are you so afraid of?”
I buried my face in my hands. “Of losing everything.”
There was silence. Then I felt the bed shift. I looked up, startled, as Elias sat down beside me. Not too close, but close enough that the warmth of his presence made my chest ache.
“You already lost something,” he said softly. “Didn’t you?”
I swallowed hard, words tangled in my throat.
He didn’t push this time. He just sat there, quiet, steady. It was almost worse than the questions.
Finally, I whispered, “She was my sister.”
Elias’s eyes widened, but he didn’t interrupt.
“She came here. To this school. And she…” My voice broke. “She didn’t make it out.”
The silence was deafening.
Elias’s hand twitched, like he wanted to reach for me but wasn’t sure if he should. “Sam…” His voice was low, careful, as if saying my name too loud would shatter me. “I had no idea.”
“You weren’t supposed to,” I said bitterly. “No one was. That’s the whole point.”
His brows furrowed. “And you came here because—”
“Because I need answers,” I cut in. “Because someone has to pay. Because I can’t—” My voice cracked again. “I can’t live like she never existed.”
Elias was quiet for a long time. Then he said, “Revenge won’t fix it.”
“Don’t.” I glared at him, anger and grief colliding in my chest. “Don’t say that. You don’t know what it’s like to lose the only person who ever—”
I stopped myself, biting down on the words before they spilled out.
His eyes softened. “Maybe I don’t. But I know what it’s like to carry something so heavy it crushes you. And I know what it’s like to want someone—anyone—to share that weight with.”
I turned away, staring at the floor. My heart ached so bad it felt like it might split open.
For a long time, we just sat there. His presence was steady, quiet, but I could feel his gaze burning into me.
Finally, he whispered, “You don’t have to tell me everything. Not yet. But don’t shut me out completely.”
I bit my lip, fighting the urge to say too much. “I can’t promise that.”
“Then promise me this,” he said. “That you’ll be careful. Because whatever you’re tangled up in… it’s dangerous. I can feel it.”
I met his eyes, and for the first time, I saw fear there. Not for himself—but for me.
“I’ll try,” I whispered.
He nodded slowly, like it was enough for now. But the way his gaze lingered told me he wasn’t done digging.
We sat in silence, the moonlight painting silver lines across the floor. My mind replayed the dream, my sister’s warning echoing in my head.
Be careful who you trust.
And as Elias finally stood, muttering that he was going to try and sleep, I realized something that made my blood run cold.
In my dream, my sister hadn’t told me who to stay away from.
Which meant it could be anyone.
Even him.