Leo jerked violently, his body jolting on the bed as if struck by an invisible force. His heart hammered against his ribs, pumping blood that felt like it was turning to ice. With ragged, shallow gasps, Leo stared around the room, his eyes wide as he searched for Kevin and the muzzle of the pistol that had felt so real against his forehead.
"Just a dream," Leo murmured under his breath, his voice hoarse and trembling. He tried to swallow, but his throat felt as dry as a desert.
Click.
The bedroom door opened, and Jane stepped inside. Her face, heavy with makeup, clouded with shock at the sight of Leo's disheveled state.
"You're home, darling?" Jane asked. She hurried toward him as she realized he was gasping for air, cold sweat drenching his temples. "What's wrong? Did I startle you?"
Jane drew near, sitting on the edge of the bed and reaching for Leo's hands, which were still shaking. Leo shook his head slowly, trying to banish the vision of death that had just haunted him.
