CHAPTER HUNDRED & THIRTY SEVEN

When Reynolds opened his eyes again, he was in a room he did not recognize.

The ceiling—which was the first thing he saw— was low, so close that he was certain if he stood and reached high enough, he could touch it.

The entire room on the other hand was sparsely furnished with a chair near the bed and an old table, and it smelt entirely of sweetness and unrestrained air. The windows faced him from the other end, light shooting through, and the blinds which blocked out most of the sun danced in the light breeze.

Oddly, the room seemed distantly familiar, and he could have sworn he had been in it before. But he had no recollection whatsoever. It was though he had seen it in a dream.

He tried to think back, but even if he’d laid eyes upon this place before, he couldn’t recall it. And when he closed his eyes, even if he did remember anything, there were flashes of images which just wouldn’t come together, as though they didn’t want to do so.

Shaking his head, Reynold lifted his head a b
Continue to read this book on the App

Related Chapters

Latest Chapter