Chapter 87

Maya’s POV

My head throbbed first—a deep, pulsing ache that blurred my vision. When my eyes finally focused, I saw a chandelier hanging from a pale ceiling. My stomach twisted with nausea, and I felt bile rise at the back of my throat. Yet something else unsettled me even more: the sumptuous softness of the sheets, the gentle scent of the pillow, the empty space at my sides where an arm should have been. I was in a bed. A bed I recognized.

“No.” The word escaped my lips before I fully processed it. I sat bolt upright, heart hammering, and took in the room: cream-painted walls, pale furniture, heavy drapes framing the windows, and picture frames hung in perfect symmetry. Every book, pen, makeup compact, and bottle of perfume sat where I’d left them. Time had left only a faint patina, but not a speck of dust marred their surfaces. It was exactly as I remembered my old bedroom at