Chapter 115: A nightmare I’ll never forget

Ivy’s pov

The world was a blur of shadow around me.

My head throbbed, a dull, persistent ache behind my eyes. It felt different from my usual migraines. This was much more disorienting. I needed to get new pills. These weren’t working anymore. I’d have to go to the pharmacy tomorrow and complain.

I swung my legs off the side of the bed, my feet touching the cool wooden floor. But as I stood up, something felt wrong. The floor seemed way closer than normal. I felt... smaller.

My gaze drifted up, and there was some tall, ornate mirror leaning against the wall. The reflection that stared back at me blink rapidly. A child was staring back at me.

Well to be more specific, twelve-year-old me with wide, terrified amber eyes and chestnut brown hair tangled from sleep was staring back at me.

"What’s going on?" I whispered and winced. Even my voice was the high, thin sound of a child’s.

As if my words were a switch, the blurry room snapped into focus. The floral wallpaper, the frilly white curtains, the antique dollhouse in the corner, wait a minute, I was in my old bedroom in my childhood home.

A heavy dread washed over me.

I wanted to run back into bed, but my legs stumbled out of the door instead carrying me to the one place I was terrified to go.

"No... no, not again."

The hallway was long and dark, but I knew the way; my feet were moving as if I was being pulled by an invisible string. There were some voices, but they sounded so far away and muffled.

My mother was at the top of the staircase, her arms flailing, her body twisting in a horrifying arc as she tumbled down the marble steps.

A scream ripped from my throat. I ran to the top of the stairs, my small hands gripping the banister so hard my knuckles turned white.

Mom’s body hit the floor with a wet, sickening thud. Blood. So much blood, immediately gushing from her head, spreading across the white carpet like a crimson river.

Her amber eyes, dazed and unfocused, found me at the top of the stairs. She lifted her pale, shaking hand at me.

"Ivy Bear," she choked out, "Run."

And then her head fell back, and she was gone.

"Mama!" I screamed, scrambling down the staircase, my small legs clumsy and weak. I fell to my knees beside her, my hands shaking as I tried to shake her awake. "Mama, wake up! Please, wake up!" I was sobbing, my tears mixing with the blood on the floor. "Daddy! Daddy, help!"

"Harper, what have you done? What did you do?" My father bellowed running down the stairs. "You killed her!"

"No... no I didn’t, I didn’t," I cried. "Mama I’m sorry. I’m so sorry!"

"Ivy-"

"I’m sorry,"

"Ivy, wake up!"

A deep, urgent voice cut through the nightmare. Hands were on my arms, holding me, shaking me gently. I fought them, thrashing against the grip.

"No! Let me go! I have to help my mama!"

"Ivy, it’s me. It’s Deon. You’re safe, open your eyes, Babygirl, hey hey, please, open your eyes."

My eyes flew open. I wasn’t in my childhood home. I wasn’t a child. I was in Winslow Estate, standing in the middle of the hallway with Gideon holding me, his face etched with worry, his hands cupping my cheeks.

I was shaking uncontrollably, my heart racing, my breath coming in ragged, painful gasps.

"Shhh," he soothed, his thumb stroking my cheekbone. "It was just a nightmare, Ivy. Just a bad dream. You’re okay. You’re safe with me."

My mind was scrambled all over. How did I get here? The last thing I remembered was falling asleep. Why was I standing up, in the middle of the hallway, in the middle of the night?

Gideon seemed to read the confusion on my face. Without a word, he scooped me up into his arms, cradling me against his chest. He carried me down the hall, into the library, then lowered me on leather couch.

"I’ll get you some water,"

"No!" I grabbed his arm tightly. "Don’t leave me,"

He paused, then nodded, sitting back down beside me. He pulled me into his lap, his arms wrapping around me. "I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere."

He held me until the trembling subsided and my frantic breathing evened out. He then gently shifted me, standing to get a bottle of water from a small dispenser in the corner. He brought it back, twisting the cap off and holding it to my lips.

I drank greedily, the cool water soothing my raw throat. "Thank you,"

He sat back down, pulling me into his lap again, his chin resting on top of my head. "What were you dreaming about? You were so shaken when I found you."

I looked up at him, my brow furrowed. "Wasn’t it you who brought me to the hallway?"

"I was working in here. I heard you scream, and when I came out... you were right there in the middle of the hall, crying and gasping."

A hot blush crept up my neck. I buried my face in his chest, mortified. "I’m sorry. I... I must have sleepwalked. I used to do it all the time when I was a kid, but I thought I had outgrown it. I haven’t done it in years. I didn’t know I could still... God, this is so embarrassing."

"There’s nothing shameful about it." He tilted my chin, checking my eyes, while his thumb stroked my temple tenderly. "It’s not your fault. Are you sure you’re okay now?"

I nodded, my heart swelling with a very confusing mix of gratitude and affection. "I’m fine."

He studied my face for a moment longer before asking. "What happened with your mother?"

Every muscle in my body went rigid. I stared at him, my blood turning to ice. "What did you just... why are you asking?"