Page 21 of Realm of Dreams & Shadows

The memory still cuts, even four years later. I let it flow over me as I tell Tia everything. Finding her writhing in bed, her body contorted. How she spasmed. And then how she was still.

I’d watched through tears and terror as the paramedics tried and failed to revive her. And after, I’d heard the whispers about how unusual it was for a healthy thirty-eight-year-old woman to thrash around like that and then to die in her sleep. I heard whispers that maybe she was a user. That she’d somehow OD’d. But the tox report was clean, and I knew better than that, anyway. Mom had told me, hadn’t she? About the women in our family. About how I’m going to die the same way too.

“I’m so sorry,” Tia says, genuine compassion in her voice. “That must have been terrible.” She hugs herself. “To see something so scary in your dreams that your heart gives out.”

“It’s not—she wasn’t just scared,” I say, trying to make her understand. “Something in her nightmare killed her.”

Tia starts to speak, but I hold up a finger to silence her. “I can prove it,” I say. “Well, sort of.”

I open my treasure box and hand her mom’s taped-together letter about our female line. “I’ve never shown it to anyone. Not even Uncle Finn.”

Tia takes it but doesn’t unfold it. Instead, she sits on her bed, facing me, all traces of her usual manic energy gone. “What’s in it?”

“My heritage.” I nod for her to go ahead, then watch as she reads the letter, her posture going stiffer and stiffer.

“Whoa,” she says, her voice like a whisper. “And you believe it’s true?”

I nod. “She had a notebook too. It had sketches of monsters she saw in her nightmares. I see the same monsters now in my dreams.” I watch her face, looking for signs that she thinks I’m crazy, but all I see is sympathy.

“The monsters were hunting her. I’m sure of it.”

“And you think they caught her.”

I nod. “And killed her.”

“But if you see the same places and the same monsters, then it must be a real place. Like you’re traveling there. Kind of like one of those out-of-body experiences, right?”

Relief washes over me. She actually believes me. “Yeah. I know it sounds crazy, but yes.”

Tia shudders. “Scorpions sand monsters and lava people. That’s terrifying.”

“To the power of a billion.” I draw in a breath, realizing most of the tension has left my body. It’s good to finally talk to someone about this.

“And the, well, plot?” she asks. “I mean, do the same things happen in your dreams as in your mom’s?”

“I’m not sure. She didn’t really give details. But the cast and the sets sure overlap.” I tell her the rest of it. About the Hunter and the Nightmare King. “And lately my dreams have been getting more intense. More vivid.” I swallow. “I can’t help but think it’s building to something, you know? Like to whatever finally killed Mom.”

“Oh, god, Cora. You must be terrified.”

My laugh sounds a little hysterical. “Yeah. That’s a fair statement.”

She squeezes my hands. “I believe you. Truly. And I’m going to help you. You’re not in this alone. Not anymore.”

I only realize I’m crying when I taste the tears. She pulls me into a hug. “Okay, none of that, or I’ll start, and then I’ll have to blame you for smudging my eyeliner. Although who cares? I can always fix it. Cry all you want.”

I choke out a laugh and sit back as she squeezes my hands once again. “We’re going to figure this out,” she says. “Your dreams are not going to kill you. And we’re going to start with this.” She waves the Whitehall invitation. “Who knows about your dreams other than you, me, and your uncle?”

“No one,” I say. “Well, maybe Professor Valdez. Uncle Finn may have told her. But even he doesn’t know all of it. He just knows I have really intense nightmares.”

She nods slowly, as if working out a puzzle. “And that’s it? No one else? What about your doctor? You have meds, right?”

I shake my head.

“Anyone from back home going to school here now?”

“No, there’s no one.” I’m about to add, except maybe Chase, but snap my mouth shut before I sound truly whacko. I mean, that tell your bestie everything rule must have a few boundaries, right?

“You really can’t think of anyone who’d send that invite?”