As for Ellie, early on she answered once with a faint “…busy…” and went silent after that.

Finally, I could put it off no longer. I had to find my daughter. I lowered myself to my hands and knees and, fixing my gaze on the glow ahead, began a slow, careful crawl—careful in that I kept my back slightly arched to prevent it from going into spasm. When that happened, it rendered me useless, sometimes for days.

As I moved I noticed a slight incline. Viewed from the arch, the tunnel had seemed level, but from within it definitely tilted upward. The soft, faintly warm airflow persisted and, as I approached, the glow slowly expanded to illuminate the terminal section of tunnel wall surrounding it, leaking into the chamber beyond.

I slowed. I felt winded. I couldn’t see how it could be due to exertion because I walked regularly, so it had to be nerves. After witnessing Bess’s reaction, did I really want to see Ellie—the new Ellie—being herself?

I had no choice. I had to push on.

Ellie’s voice echoed down the passage. “Is that you, Mother?”

“Y-yes.” My mouth had gone dry.

“Don’t come in here.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“But—”

“I upset Bess. I don’t want to upset you.”

Upset? Bess had been horrified. But…

“You’re my daughter. I need to see you. You can’t lock yourself away like this.”

“It’s just for a little while. I’ve got things to do, and then I’ll be out.”

But I needed to see her now, and I’d come this far, so I pushed ahead. Grabbing Bess’s penlight, I crawled into the dark chamber—a round floor about fifteen feet across, with a shadowy domed ceiling maybe ten feet high. I sat back on my haunches and fanned the beam around. A half dozen or so white globes the size of snowballs littered the floor, but no sign of Ellie. Where was she?

“Hello, Mother.”

Her voice came from above and so I angled the penlight in that direction…and froze.

Ellie clung to the arching wall about three-quarters of the way up toward the domed center. She clung by long, spindly spider legs that had sprung from her back, slim, many-jointed legs, dark brown, gleaming like mahogany.

With a cry, I dropped the light and crab-scrambled back to the tunnel opening. At least with the beam aimed along the floor, reflecting off those snowballs, I couldn’t see her.

“Oh, Ellie!” I cried when I found my voice. “Oh, dear God, Ellie!”

“I’m all right, Mother,” she said, her voice unsettlingly calm. “Really, I am. And believe it or not, I’m okay with it.”

“But what is ‘it’? What’s happened to you? Who did this to you?”

“Not so much a ‘who’ as a ‘what.’ As for the rest, I don’t know. I woke from the coma knowing a lot of things I never knew before, but I don’t know why I know them, or why any of this happened. But I sense some sort of purpose.”