She opened her eyes to the canine’s fuzzy black and white face, its head coming closer still as its warm tongue slid across her cheek in a long, wet lick. She swiped away the sticky saliva and half-sat, peering around the room. Her heart stopped, the blood draining from her face as her eyes jerked wide. She opened her mouth in a silent scream. Oh dear god, no. Two beautiful children lay dead either side of her, their lips blue and their little bodies stiff and yellow. She scrabbled backward until she hit a wall. “No.” She shook her head, swallowing past a thick lump in her throat. The little boy and girl—hers?—were dead. What happened? And what was she doing here with them? Bloody hell. Why can’t I remember anything? She sucked in a breath as the room slowly spun around her and she flushed hot and then cold. She tucked her feet close, clasping her knees to her chest as she pressed against the wall. The dog sat on its haunches, watching her with its head tilted to the side. And that’s when she saw the pages and pages of crayon drawings littering the floor all around them.
