Except in my dream she’s alive. I’m standing in the secret passageway staring down at her when she sits up and smiles at me. “No one cares about polyester,” she says, then the stone floor disappears beneath me and I’m falling. I wake with a jolt and the remains of a scream dying in my throat. Gran comes in and sits down on my bed. She gently pushes my sweaty hair off my forehead and says, “Want to tell me about it?” “It was the dead girl from the passageway. Except she was alive.” Gran doesn’t say anything, just continues to stroke my hair. “The girl I saw was dead, Gran. I’m sure of it.” “You don’t have to try to convince me, Juliet.” “You still think I should go back to Tudor Times?” “It’s your decision. But I’ve always been a big believer in the notion that things happen for a reason, which means there’s an important reason you found that girl.
