April 12
I woke up in a cold sweat. Crying. I had to put the pieces together, to reach into my memory. Those images far away, yet close all the same. I clenched the sheet in my hands, squeezed my eyes shut and tried to ignore Paul's even breathing beside me.
I had been running through dim, empty cobblestone streets on the heels of a smartly dressed young man. I hadn't been able to see his face. I was tripping in my heavy shoes and long cloak, but he called out to me in annoyance. "Hurry along now!" I could still hear the words over and over in my head, but the sound of his voice had disappeared.
I tried to remain calm, to concentrate, hoping to remember the rest of the dream that had haunted me two nights in a row. I was certain Will had been a part of it, yet I couldn't call up a single scene involving him. I was struggling. It was too late. The dream's last traces had slipped away.
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