om my throat, but

against my ribs, the sheets tw

edroom on the East Coast, di

tmare again, so

but not m

th Ethan

uel hands, the way he

riend, always there, whispering in his ear,

way, with me, broken, in a silent, o

more intense. It felt less like a dream and mo

ng for air, my

dream. This was my fu

arranged by our families, celebrat

the. I wouldn't

ag

poken of a different life, a simpler one, even mentioned a

and Aunt Eleanor was my

er in our circles, a man who could make or break alliance

covers, my legs s

g, painting the sky in p

lk to Aunt

ake them u

life they planned for

n the darkened window, a pa

voice raw. "I won't le

mach, but a new feeling was there

, and I refused to w