Even though Scarlett Yates was dead drunk, she had a vague impression of the dream she had.
She thought about it carefully and didn't find anything particularly special about it, except for dreaming again about a recurring dream she's had since childhood.
She dreamt of that little boy again.
As a child, in these dreams, the people were always blurry, but today... it seemed she could clearly see the little boy's face in the dream.
If there was anything peculiar, it was that the little boy she dreamt of today looked a bit like Matthew Saxon, just a bit more youthful.
"Did you remember?" Matthew Saxon's urgency was more apparent, his fingers that pinched her jaw now cradling her face with both hands. His breath was a bit rapid, hot breath sprinkled on her cheek, and his handsome face suddenly enlarged twice in front of her eyes. If he moved forward another centimeter, their noses would touch tip to tip.
