“I shouldn’t let you comfort me,” he whispered.
“I’m just being honest. Come on, I’ll show you your room.”
There’d always been a door between Anna’s bedroom and the bathroom. It never opened. Tonight she tried it anyway.
It opened.
Into a hazy void.
Anna quickly pulled the door shut. “Let me try that again.”
She closed her eyes and pictured a room. What kind of room would James like? Something simple. Reassuring. She pictured a bed like hers, but with a green wool blanket. With clean white sheets and three feather pillows. With lace curtains. And a window cracked to let in the breeze. She added a pitcher of water and a basin. Even though that seemed antiquated. She imagined it all. Then she opened her eyes and smiled up at him. She opened the door into the room.
“Anna …” James whispered. “Did you do this?”
She didn’t answer.
“Can everyone do this?”
“No,” she said softly.
“How …”
“I’ve been here so long,” she said, “I think I might be merging with the equipment.”
James huffed out a laugh. Like he was overwhelmed and also a little spooked. “Is it safe?”
“I can’t hurt or hide you,” she said. “And I wouldn’t. It’s safe. It’s all the same place. I promise.”
“Okay.” He looked down at her. “I believe you. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome … There’ll be breakfast in the morning. Homemade biscuits.”
“I’ll see you then. Good night, Anna.”
“Good night, James.”
Anna lay in her bed, listening to the wind and feeling … light. Feeling exhilarated. She’d never had anyone stay the night before. She hadn’t met many people like James. People who were her age. People who could talk the way he could talk. Who could sleep. And eat cake. And got scared in a way they could articulate.
She thought about his strawberry-blond hair and his pale blue eyes.
She was waiting for him when he came downstairs the next morning wearing the same green pants and cream sweater.
Anna had changed. She had a closet full of dresses—and matching shoes if she wanted. Even some hats. She really was like Barbie.
“Looks like the house didn’t eat you,” she said.
“Good morning,” he said.
“Good morning. Did you sleep?”
“Like a baby—and you were right.”
“About what?”
“Itwasdifferent. From my memory of sleeping.”
She gripped her coffee cup in both hands. “Yeah?”
