Page 111 of Somno Slave

Normalising.

That’s the word that floats up. That’s what this is. A moment of instability acknowledged and corrected.

The tap drips once.

Twice.

Each sound lands too distinctly. It lands too heavy in the room, too deliberate—and my skin tightens like I’m waiting for a command that never comes.

I curl my fingers into the paper towel until the shaking subsides, blotting my face until the beads stop running down.

Control is not something you feel.

It’s something youdo.

I turn away from the mirror before it tricks me that I’m not really fine.

Chapter Thirty-Three

Rheda

My shower turns on too easily. Heat floods the room, steam curling up the tiles, softening the edges of everything until it all feels less defined. I step under it and the water burns sharp. I don’t make any effort to move; I just let the sharp sting scratch down my shoulder and spine. My fingers reach for the soap. I put too much into the palm of my hand, drinking in the strawberry fragrance, something sweet and familiar.

I scrub hard, too hard, as though I can scratch myself awake. My body moves like it’s following instructions I haven’t agreed to.

I hate the way I’m preparing.

I hate the way something low in my stomach tightens, not with fear, but with anticipation that feels invasive and wrong.

I finish the shower quickly, like if I stay any longer, I’ll have to admit what I’m doing.

I head into the living room. I pace once. Twice. Pick up my phone. Put it down again. Turn the light on. Then off. Then on again.

Stay awake.

That’s all I have to do.

I sit on the edge of the sofa and press my palms into my thighs, grounding myself in the pressure.

You are in control.

You are awake.

You are—

My phone buzzes.

The sound cuts straight through the room, sharp enough that I flinch. My heart lurches, a sudden, stupid spike of panic, like I’ve been caught doing something I shouldn’t be.

It vibrates again.

I stare at it for a second before reaching over, fingers hesitating just above the screen.

Unknown number.

I drag in a slow breath in and then out, and swipe to answer.

There’s a small pause on the other end.