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"Wake up, D.J.," she muttered to herself. "You've got to wake up." |
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And though a tiny thread of panic lodged deep inside, D.J. found she liked the weight of the baby in her arms; she liked the way the child clung to her. When the boy had called her "Mom" a spark of wonder had blossomed in her heart, and the warmth in McCall's voice when he'd said "honey" made her ache in the deepest part of her soul. |
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But this dream wasn't realcould never be real. Believing in the dream would only cause more heartache than she could bear. She had to end this now. How could she get back to her world? |
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D.J. glanced at the mouth of the cave. Must she leave this happy scene full of life and promise and journey back through that cold, damp loneliness once again to find her way out? |
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"No!" she shouted, and sat up with a jerk. |
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She existed in the darkness. Alone. A tiny hiccough of a sob came from her lips, and she put her hand up to stop any further sound from escaping. |
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The bed dipped as someone sat next to her. She let out a gasp of shock. Her mouth opened, but no words would come out. |
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"D.J., are you all right?" |
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McCall. She sighed in relief. He was still here. Confusion snared her. Where was here? |
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"III had a dream." Her voice sounded oddbreathy, frightened, almost childlike. |
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"It's all right. I have dreams all the time. They aren't real." |
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True. The dream couldn't be real, could never be real. Not the terrifying dream of the empty cave, or |
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