“The alarm wasn’t supposed to go off yet.”

Mara heaved herself over to her side of the bed; her heart quickened, and the shrill beeping actually cut through the silence. She fumbled in the dark, eyes adjusting to the dim glow of her phone. 3:32 a.m.


Only a few hours had passed since she'd gone to bed. Rain drummed softly against her window outside, steady in its rhythm until it faded into background noise. She blinked, hoping it was some weird dream, but there it was, insistent and grating, echoing through the walls.


She swung her legs over the side of the bed, trying to shake off the fog of sleep. Her new apartment was barely furnished and felt colder than it should. Everything here still felt temporary, as though she hadn't quite settled into her own life yet. This place, with its bare walls and unpacked boxes, didn't yet feel like home.


But that alarm.


She pressed her ear against the wall, thinking it might be from another unit, but it seemed to throb from somewhere closer, more intimate. Like it had been waiting for her, somehow attuned to her heartbeat, calling her. After a few minutes, the sound subsided, leaving only her shallow breathing and the soft hiss of the rain outside.


Mara let out a shaky breath. She forced herself back under the covers and eventually sleep came fitfully. She closed her eyes, counted her breaths, and finally fell into a restless doze.