She got down on her hands and knees and crawled through. She glanced over her shoulder once, as the mist started closing around her; the last thing that she saw before she was through was Young Alice, watching her from the witness box.
Epilogue
In seconds, Alice was in her attic, crawling back out of the mirror onto a pile of packing crates. The place was the same as it had always been, dark and musty and chilly, and Alice was a little glad. In a way, it was good to be home.
Alice made her way down the pile of crates, then turned and looked at the mirror. She could hardly believe it had happened, now; it all seemed the same as before. She felt good, though; in fact, she felt better.
She heard Queenie calling for her downstairs, and she smiled. She remembered the words of Young Al
