Jessica returned to her small apartment and, exhausted from staying up late the night before, went to bed early.

"No-ah-!"

No-please-

In her dream, her eyes reflected the searing glow of flames. The fire raged, painting everything red and orange.

Timothy was still inside.

She tried to call for help, using all her strength, but no sound would come out.

She struggled in the nightmare, frantic and powerless, watching Timothy run into the burning inferno.

It was so dangerous!

"No... no..."

Jessica jolted awake, drenched in cold sweat, her hair plastered to her forehead.

Even as she woke, the terror and worry from her dream clung to her.

On instinct, she reached for her throat. Just now, she could've sworn she'd made a sound!

hard-her throat still tingled as if it had

widened in

mute for years, not a single sound

now, in the

her neck, she clutched at the blanket.

all these years of silence,

Was she still dreaming?

the sensation-the feeling of something rough and raw rising in her throat- was almost

again, forcing an

the ghost of a voice, rasping from

She stared, stunned.

actually made a

a decade, after so many disappointments, she'd stopped allowing herself even the hope that

she could only manage the tiniest, scratchiest

tremor in her throat sent a sharp, burning pain

herself a glass of warm water,

the cup. Her voice was hoarse, barely

for the first time in so long, she felt a surge of happiness so fierce it

the raw sting in her

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