Zaviel Free -

Then they would whisper your deepest shame into your ear, and you would never sleep again.

Zaviel had one rule: never open your eyes after midnight.

“Please,” a voice whispered. It was young. Female. Shaking. “Please, I need help. I can’t find the door.”

“You’re not searching for victims,” Zaviel said softly. “You’re searching for forgiveness.”

“Close.” The voice was directly in front of him now. Too close. “Open your eyes.”

And he saw, threaded through her own chest, a single frayed silver cord—tethering her to something far away. Something that had once loved her.