#Chapter 228: Dead End
Moana
I let out a yelp. I jolted, and then everything stopped. The rain, the wind, the grass… All of it turned back into the still, calm air of my bedroom. Michael’s hand no longer gripped my wrist, and the golden glint of the knife in his hand turned into the soft amber glow of the lamp on my bedside table.
“Moana?” Dr. Rhodes said, sounding concerned. “Are you there?”
I quickly sat up and rubbed my eyes. “Y-Yes,” I replied. “I’m okay. It’s just…”
“What is it?”
I shook my head. “Nothing,” I lied. “Dr. Rhodes… Will you be available to try again tomorrow?”
The therapist paused, then cleared his throat. “Sure. You can call me anytime if you want to try again, or even if you just need to talk. Are you sure you’re okay, though?”
“I’m fine,” I lied again, even though my hands were shaking. “Thanks, Dr. Rhodes. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
…
I didn’t sleep very much at all for the rest of the night. I was too nervous to try to sleep in case I sleepwalked again

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