Katelina woke the next evening to a face full of black. A wave of panic crashed through her. She tried to move, but she was pressed tightly against Jorick's cold body and jammed in a small box with no air. The tattered remnants of nightmares clung to her, and the oppressive darkness held them close and refused to let them melt away.
She tried to open the lid, but her arms were trapped beneath her. She needed air, and light. She needed to be reminded that she was alive and not dead.
Jorick stirred beneath her, woken by either the tiny butterflies of her fear brushing against his consciousness, or her attempts to escape. He took a deep, shuddering breath and shifted so that his hand lay on her shoulder. "Katelina?" he murmured uncertainly, his concern a palpable entity that filled what sp
