I close my eyes. It’s as though a lightning bolt has struck me, slicing off a piece of my heart. I know instinctively that this scar won’t heal. The severed part will not be reabsorbed by the whole. Instead, the mutilated organ just sits on my chest, beating. Hissing. Hurting.

The Voice warned me this would be hard. She said I would have to compromise everything in order to save the future: my integrity, my character—my soul.

When I open my eyes, the butterfly lies broken in two in my hands. The Voice was right. Because with Lalana leaving, I’ve lost more than just a friend. I’ve broken more than a piece of art. I’ve sacrificed a piece of my soul.

How much more will I have to surrender tonight?

Chapter 35

Chapter 35

I’m back in the void. One moment, I’m lying on my bed after my shower, physically exhausted by my run. Emotionally wrecked from my encounter with Lalana. And the next moment, I’m here.

How I arrived at this place, I’m not sure. But I don’t think about it too closely. There are too many things to wonder, too much space to explore. In front of me, once again, is the bright, fuzzy thread that will lead me back to my present. Below me is the never-ceasing, never-slowing river of my original life.

I could go back to my time, my present, my bed—or I could take another dip in the stream. Falling in the first time was an accident, but this time… This time would be deliberate.

Is this dangerous, what I’m considering? Maybe I have no business poking around in the original Alice’s life. Maybe I’ll learn something that will adversely impact my future.

But there’s no question what I’ll do, not really. I need answers, and now I know where to find them.

Decided, I steel my consciousness and jump back into the rushing stream of colors with both my metaphorical feet.

…

Pain. Pain like I’ve never known it, pain like I’ve never imagined, explodes inside me, stretching my cells beyond their limits, snapping nerves beyond repair. It takes over my body, my mind, my soul, turning everything I know and everything I am into one unending wail.

“You can do this,” a voice says in my ear. My husband. I grip his hand so hard, I swear I hear the crunch of bones. Instead of giving me a broomstick to hold, like he joked before I went into labor, he just takes my hand even more firmly. “This is the ordinary miracle, Alice, and you are nothing short of miraculous. You’ve shown that to me a million times. Show me again. Bring our daughter into this world.”