Amy was dreaming of being in the garden, sitting on the swing. It was a very normal and boring dream for someone so sick and perverted. Did she somehow subconsciously wish for simpler times and simpler days, like those before her fall?
I walked over to the garden swing where Amy was seated. As she looked at me and smiled I pressed my hand against her forehead.
“Sleep,” I said.
Amy closed her eyes and her head lolled forwards. In the dream-within-a-dream she took on her real form, that of Amy. I lay her down on the swing and headed towards the cottage, hoping Danny was in her dream and close by. He was in the library at the back of the cottage, looking for a book.
“Helena,” he said, “I was just getting a book. Have I been gone so long that you felt the need to find me?”
I put my arms a
