I yanked the covers over my head and scrambled away from the window, seeking out the edge of the bed in the darkness provided by the comforter.

“Sunlight!” I screamed. “Reg!”

Mercifully, my hand found the edge of the mattress, and I tumbled over the side, away from the deadly rays. The covers tumbled with me, and I was tangled beneath them screaming.

“Sunlight! Reg, help! I’M BURNING!”

“Charlie?” Reg’s voice was weak and distant at first, then louder as he threw open the door to the room. “Charlie?!”

“I’M BURNING! I’M BURNING!”

I thrashed under the covers, trying to untangle myself and shimmy underneath the bed at the same time—all my instincts telling me to get to the darkest place possible.

But the covers fought back, and I only bound myself up tighter.

“I’m burning,” I said again, but this time it came out as an exhausted sigh.

“Charlie.” Reg again, quieter now. His hand pressed through the covers to cup my head. “Daylight can’t hurt you.”

It took a second for his words to sink in. Ever so cautiously, I stretched out one hand until it escaped the blankets and hit the naked air. I winced in expectation, but there was no pain, no burning. I pulled back the rest of the covers, which stopped fighting me now that I wasn’t moving like a maniac.

The first thing I saw was Reg, standing above me, absolutely bathed in the sunlight. He held his arms wide and did a slow spin.

“See? It’s fine.”

I tossed the rest of the covers aside and stood up, brushing wild hairs from my face. “Well, of course,” I said. “I was—um—having a nightmare, obviously.”

“Obviously.” Reg smirked.

I marched over to the window and pushed the curtains open even wider, determined to prove I wasn’t afraid, but I couldn’t help but squint as the full blast of sun hit my face. Slowly, slowly, I opened one eye and then the other. I had to blink a few times before my eyes adjusted to the brightness. Then the scene outside the window came into focus. The hills around the cottage, so black the night before, were now waves of the brightest green I had ever seen. The occasional patch of wildflowers popped bright purple or yellow against the long blades of grass, which eventually gave way to hay-colored cornfields on all sides.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Reg asked, joining me at the window.

I humphed in response. I wasn’t ready to get chummy with the scenery.

But of course it was beautiful. Any moron could see colors brought to life by sunlight were more spectacular in person than in pictures. No movie or TV show I’d ever seen could do this justice. A sigh escaped my lips before I could catch it, and I hastily tried to turn it into a yawn.