Page 158 of Sweet Nightmare

Things that make him sad.

Things that sound suspiciously like pieces of himself.

And now there’s this.

A lonely wanderer’s tale.

A moon that listens without asking questions.

I don’t know what it means to him. Maybe Mrs. Han is simply romanticizing a grumpy man who would probably threaten the moon if it trespassed on his property, too.

Still, I understand hiding.

More than most people ever will.

The world my parents brought me into decided who I was before I was old enough to decide for myself. The world I grew up in did the same.

They know the Ice Princess.

The heiress.

The Olympic champion.

The woman who doesn’t smile, doesn't fall in love, and never loses control.

They know the version of me I’ve allowed them to see.

And that’s what I've learned about being watched all the time.

Privacy isn’t about having nothing to hide.

It’s about knowing there are pieces of yourself the world hasn’t earned the right to see.

Pieces it doesn’t deserve.

Maybe the human rain cloud is the same.

Maybe Khaos is simply the part of Stephen he allows the world to see.

And maybe Stephen is something else entirely.

The piano continues somewhere beyond the hallway.

I close my eyes and listen.

For a moment, everything around me disappears.

The kitchen.

Mrs. Han.

Mika.

Everything fades until there’s nothing left but Stephen’s sad melody.

Then something terrifying happens.

My body recognizes it before my mind does.