For a wild moment, she had no idea where she was, disoriented by the unfamiliar furniture and bare walls. A paper crumpled as she sat up; when she looked on her lap, she saw it was the story of the Ruby Red necklace—and then she remembered. She was at Cottingley Heights. Tam. The party. She had no idea how long she’d been sleeping, but judging from the half-light trying to claw through the window, it must be morning. Drowsily, she rose. The pretty dress was wrinkled. She smoothed it down absently and felt a bump in the pocket. Her phone. Reassured that she hadn’t lost it last night, she slipped into the heels she’d taken off. Amazingly her feet weren’t destroyed by the five-inch stilettos like she thought they would be. She glanced at her jeans and t-shirt tossed on the chair in the corner. She never realized before how ugly her old clothes were. After she had made sure the velvet scarf was securely wound over the necklace, she shoved the bureau away from the door and opened it a crack.
