Chapter 7

• I’d spent over an hour just staring at my ankle, testing its range of motion again and again. It looked fine felt fine, even but the speed of its recovery made my skin crawl. None of my past injuries had ever healed this fast. So either I’d exaggerated how badly I twisted it… or the wildest possibility was true: my boss had actually appeared in my room, uninvited, and dosed me with something some kind of enchanted elixir that healed me.
• The latter theory was absurd. Completely insane. Just like the entire dream. Anyone with half a functioning brain would laugh it off and question the mental health of anyone who didn’t. And yet… despite how surreal the whole thing had been, there was always one part of my dreams involving Gosto that didn’t feel like a dream at all.
• Him.