Room 406, very early morning

Isabel was used to bad dreams; nightmares really, of Antar, of Kivar and that dark room. And more recently nightmares of what had happened when she'd been taken. Sometimes she never managed to take control and just remained, trapped in Meris' mind. Other times that confrontation on the beach went much differently and ended with someone she loved dead.

But this was different. Amorphous and fleeting, Isabel couldn't make sense of it. She just knew it disturbed her enough that she wouldn't be going back to sleep anytime soon. Slipping carefully from the bed so she didn't disturb a sleeping Wyatt, Isabel perched on the windowsill to watch the sunrise over the island and think about the last few days.

[Establishy/linkdroppy unless the boyfriend feels like waking up.]