My Baby Daddy Isn’t Human

240: When the Truth Refuses to Fade 240: When the Truth Refuses to Fade Raelynn’s eyes fluttered open long before the sun had touched the sky.

The pale blue of early dawn stretched across the ceiling of the room, casting faint shadows on the walls.

She lay still, her body stiff and unmoving beneath the sheets, eyes wide and unblinking as though she hadn’t really slept at all.

Because she hadn’t.

Not really.

Her mind had barely allowed her a few moments of shallow rest.

Sleep had come in short, broken waves—no peace, no dreams, just the heavy weight of disbelief pressing on her chest.

She blinked up at the ceiling, her breaths slow and shallow, her hand resting instinctively just below her collarbone.

Her heart still felt strange.

Not just the condition that had plagued her for years, but something deeper.

Something more rattled.

As if it didn’t know how to beat steadily anymore.

She turned her head slowly to the side, where the morning light had begun pouring through the curtain, soft and golden.

It painted the edge of the window frame in a soft glow, warming the wall and casting a long rectangle of sunlight across the bed.

Morning.

Already.

So much for rest.

Raelynn pushed herself up slowly, groaning under her breath as her limbs resisted.

She hadn’t changed clothes—still wearing the same loose top from last night, a little wrinkled and sticking slightly to her back from the night sweat.

Her hair was a mess, strands sticking to her cheek and tangled at the back.