Ashley's consciousness drifted through the white void, the portraits and hallway dissolving into nothingness. For the first time since her Covenant shattered, she felt no pain. The golden fractures across her skin pulsed with steady light, their rhythm matching her heartbeat.
The white faded to black, then resolved into something familiar.
A bedroom. Her bedroom in the Martin estate, back before the academy, before everything went wrong. Sunlight streamed through gauzy curtains, illuminating the space she'd shared with no one. A queen-sized bed dominated the room, its silk sheets perfectly smooth. Awards lined the shelves. Trophies from tournaments where she'd excelled. Photos of her and Andrew, always together, always smiling.
She stood by the window, looking down at the gardens three stories below. Fourteen years old, wearing the simple cotton nightgown she'd favored back then.
A knock at the door.
"Come in," Ashley called, already knowing who it was.
