How long did she lie there? It seemed like days, but soon she was half dreaming. Over and over she prayed to Uncle Lestan. “Come get me, please, come get me. I didn’t mean to do it, please, please forgive me.” She couldn’t imagine that he would want her to suffer like this. Surely Aunt Julie and Aunt Marge had told him what was happening. Aunt Marge had been hysterical by the time they took Rose away.

At some point, Rose realized something. She was dying. All she could think of now was water. And every time she drifted off, it was a dream that someone was giving her water; then she’d wake and there was no water; and there was no one there; no one passing; no one saying “faker,” and no one saying “admit.”

A strange calm came over Rose. So this is how her life would end, she thought. And maybe Uncle Lestan just didn’t know or didn’t understand how bad it was. What would it matter?

She slept and she dreamed but she kept shivering and waking with a jolt. Her lips were cracked. And there was so much pain in her stomach and chest and her head that she could feel nothing else.

Sliding in and out, dreaming of cold clear water in glasses from which she could drink, she heard sirens go off. They were loud screeching sirens far away but coming closer, and then alarms within this place itself went off, blasting with horrific volume. Rose could smell smoke. She could see the flicker of flames. She heard the girls screaming.

Right before her, the wall broke apart and so did the ceiling. The whole room blew apart with chunks of plaster and wood flying in all directions.

Wind swept through the room. The screams around her grew louder and louder.

A man came towards Rose. He looked like Uncle Lestan, but it wasn’t Uncle Lestan. It was a dark-haired man and a beautiful man with the same bright eyes that Uncle Lestan had, except this man’s eyes were green. He scooped Rose up from her pallet and wrapped her in something warm and close, and then they went upwards.

Rose saw flames all around as they rose. The entire compound was burning.

The man carried her up and up into the sky just as it had happened long years ago above the little island.

The air was marvelously cold and fresh. “Yes, the stars …,” she whispered.

When she saw the great sweep of diamond-bright stars, she was that little child again in Uncle Lestan’s arms.

A gentle voice spoke in her ear, “Sleep, Rose, you’re safe now. I’m taking you to your uncle Lestan.”

Rose woke in a hospital room. She was surrounded by people in white coats and masks. A kindly female voice said, “You’re going to be all right, darling. I’m giving you something to make you sleep.”