Chapter 108 The Weight Of Vision

• Sleep came to Lucy in fragments.
• Not the deep, merciful rest she craved, but the thin, treacherous kind where the mind drifted without ever letting go. The shelter hummed softly around her—generators breathing, distant footsteps echoing through reinforced corridors, the muted cough of someone fighting illness two rooms away. Darren slept beside her on the narrow cot, one arm draped protectively across her waist, his breathing shallow but steady after the injury that had nearly taken him from her.
• She was counting those breaths when the dream found her.