Aliya’s POV

A week had passed since Nala planted that seed in my head, and sleep had evaded me ever since. Every time I tried to get some shut-eye, I had the same dream.

My dad is in a red suit, black horns pointing out of his forehead, a trident in his hands, and a demonic smirk plastered on his face.

Five minutes into the dream, I find myself strapped to a chair. On my left is my mum, also bound, tears streaming down her beautiful face. I yell and call out to her, but before she can understand and turn her head in my direction, she’s stabbed in the...