Something was happening to Jessica Pierce. She felt it invading her, soaking into her skin as if her body were a dry sponge. It moved up through her feet to her legs, then up towards her head, numbing the skin and in- sides.

It was not the cold. That was there too, but it was not what she felt. This was something much different, and it was not just being soaked up, it was changing her somehow. She felt calmer, more sure of herself, like somebody had just told her every little secret she ever wanted to know about anything. She felt the fear that had immobilized her earlier fading away.

But that was not exactly right. The fear was not gone, it just had a different effect. Now it only served to heighten every one of her senses, sending tingles running like tiny insects up and down her arms and legs.

She felt as if she could smell every scent, hear things from all over the world, see things that weren’t even there, at least not on the surface. She could see through the very walls if she wanted to, see the large expanse of white surrounding the building where she was imprisoned, the snow falling across the dark green of the pine trees and the white and gray branches of the others.

See her daddy coming for her through the woods.

But that was only there for a moment, and then it was gone. It was a PERCEPTION, but it was more than that. It had been a clear picture, almost as if she were really viewing it. Every detail was sharp-edged and vivid, down to their white clouds of breath that were quickly snatched away by the wind. She tried to get it back but could not, and it frustrated her immensely.

Earlier she had tried sending Daddy a picture of where she was, the dark and scary place with cold floors and whispering shadows. It had been much easier than what she had done with Dr. Mudd, but she wasn’t sure if he had gotten it. She did it by imagining an empty chalkboard like the one her parents had given her last year. They had put it up in the attic (her attic) and that had been one of her most favorite things to do on rainy days, draw pictures with the many pieces of colored chalk and then erase them and start over. This time she drew on it in her head, and she colored it with pieces of chalk that were not real. Somehow this picture had not turned out like the others she used to draw, with the funny stick arms and legs and misshapen fingers. The chalkboard in her head was magic, because when she drew a funny, crooked line it came out straight and thick, and her figures looked like the real thing.