He tried to move but he was paralyzed, tried to scream but no sound came out. Something had happened, he knew, something horrible, but he couldn’t remember what. He had to find out, it was important, he had to know. But he was in darkness and he couldn’t move; he could barely breathe. Maybe he was dead. Then came the voice, a very soft voice, calm and reassuring. He had to listen to the voice, it was saying something important, something about friends, about missing someone you love, about seeing what is important. And there was something about a prince and a fox. It was a story. Then everything went black again. Some time later he opened his eyes and didn’t recognize the room. He was alone. There was an old-fashioned cabinet by the wall with a large mirror on one of the doors. Some clothes were laid out on a chair, but they weren’t his. The wallpaper was cream colored with tiny red flowers that at first looked like specks of blood. But there was a distinctive scent in the room that he recognized, coming from the open cabinet, a spicy scent full of warmth and sunshine.
