Though, it seemed, she couldn’t bring herself to snuff the lantern and lie back. Full of alternate scenarios and unanswered questions, her mind seemed to eschew the darkness. Too many monsters lurked there. Too many memories. Perched on the edge of a lovely and comfortable guest bed, she stared at the budding bruises on her wrists left by iron manacles, and let the peaches-and-cream bedroom blur into her periphery. Swathed in a borrowed white nightgown, bathed, brushed, and braided, she remained motionless for countless minutes. Jakub was safe. She was alive. The danger was vanquished. So, why did she feel more insecure than ever? What was this strange lump of fear stuck at the back of her throat? Why did the thought of going back to her charmed and happy life make her so melancholy? She knew he was there before he made a noise. Perhaps she’d been waiting for him.
