CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Caitlin ran. The sun was high overhead as she ran through a field of flowers, thousands of roses, impossibly tall, reaching up to her waist. They were all different colors, red and pink and white and yellow, and they brushed against her softly as she ran. Amazingly, they had no thorns, and the feel of the flowers was smooth on her legs, as their smell filled the air.
On the horizon stood her father, taller than ever, closer than she could remember. She could almost make out his facial features, and as she ran, she felt as if she were about to reach him.
But as she looked down, the field of flowers disappeared, and was replaced by a small, golden bridge. Her father, too, was gone, and on the horizon sat a city, with low buildings, all with red tile roofs. The small, golde
