Rhea Thurman has always been goal-driven despite the tragedies of her past. Her obsession with criminal law leads her to the most prestigious internship in the city, working under up-and-coming lawyer, Davina Jenkins.
But Rhea never prepared to meet...
I peer out into the hallway again. It's dark. Quiet. I don't hear anything now.
I'm beginning to sweat. I know deep down that something isn't right. Why didn't Dean believe me?
Creeping down the hallway, I keep my steps light. With each soft creek of the floorboards, I pause for a few seconds; waiting.
I grip onto the banister, staring down at the floor below me. It's too dark to see anything. I'm not stupid enough to turn on the light. If someone is inside my house, I don't need them knowing where I am.
I continue on, my parents bedroom almost in reach now. Just two more steps.
When I reach for the handle, I realise that it's already open ajar. My hand hits the cold metal of the handle and my blood mirrors the temperature.
Pushing it open slightly, I cringe at the whine of its hinges. Stepping into the quiet room, I close the door behind me with a soft click.
"Mum? Dad?" I whisper.
No answer.
I turn back towards the door, listening for any sounds. When I hear nothing, I flick their bedroom light on.
No one is lying in their bed.
My eyes snap open. I sit up straight in bed, clutching at my neck. My hair sticks to my face and I brush it back; the sticky sweat from my body coating my skin. I'm trembling all over; the duvet hanging over my knees as I bring them up to my chest.
"It's just a nightmare," I reassure myself. "It's just—"
My voice cracks and I hold a hand against my mouth as I begin to sob. My whole body begins to convulse.
Maya and Layla don't come through my bedroom door. They must be asleep this time. I'm grateful I didn't wake them up. I hate being a burden.
"It's just a nightmare," I cry softly. "You're okay."
But I know better than anyone that it's more than a nightmare.
It will always be my reality.
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"Rhea? You with us?"
My head snaps up at the sound of Davina's voice. Where sitting in an entirely different room in the firm from her usual office. The room is filled with walls; no windows line the space. It's smaller, almost like a police interview room.
David sits beside Davina watching me with a mix of concern and confusion. I don't blame him. Not even I know how to feel.
"Sorry," I mumble. "Must have needed an extra coffee this morning," I try my best to smile but it physically aches to pull my mouth up.
