Chapter 36
The dreams were the worst of Anne’s torments. Not all of her torments, to be sure, but the worst of them. The dreams told her, night after night, year after year, that life would end in disaster. Not just her own life, though that was bad enough.
Anne knew all life hung in that balance.
During the last few months, since she’d gotten sober, she’d learned to love the rare, precious minutes, when she hadn’t quite woken up yet. Floating in warm darkness, not afraid of either a nightmare or the day to come. Drifting in the past, wandering through possible futures. Futures that weren’t all scary, for the first time since she was eleven years old.
Futures full of hope. And of love.
“Time for your medication, sweetheart.”
Anne did her best not to sigh or frown when she opened her
