See Yourself Be Yourself

[53] Enclosures

“Morning, sweetie…”

Misty drifted out of the haze of a library-space and into awkward, disorganized consciousness. All she could carry from the dream was a vague sense of climbing down through submarine layers.

They weren’t the expansive shelves she expected of a library, but narrow, borrowed spaces instead, metal terraces with books haphazardly stacked in piles and no reasonable structure to what was where.

She kept climbing down rickety metal steps that hurt her feet, hunting for some title she knew she’d recognize on sight, though she couldn’t have said what it was.

All of that was gone now, along with whatever reason she’d had for searching. Valerie shared the same pillow with a warm smile, her hands resting beside her chin.

“Oh!” Misty laughed with a rough, dry throat, then shielded a cough. “What are… how long have you been there?”

Valerie wiggled her faraway feet and gave a partial yawn. “Just a few minutes. I got up early and came over. Did you sleep well?”

Misty resisted the urge to rub at a few places that felt randomly itchy to her half-aware mind. “Best I could ask for,” she replied, her voice rough enough to nearly cross back over to the boy side, though her cadence and inflection did the heavy lifting to keep it feminine.

She flinched and echoed those words after lightly clearing her throat.

“Well, I’ll do my best to make up the difference for you.” Valerie pulled her close and planted a kiss on her cheek. Misty kissed her back and squished face-to-face.

Touching Valerie, Misty had to smack down her own brain as it tried to slip away into primal, screaming fears: that her partner would admonish her for her smell, for being too warm, for crossing some poorly defined, unannounced boundary they’d just conjured. She wasn’t Dina. But the still-raw places within her flinched with awful expectation.

“I already took a shower, but if I hadn’t, I’d share it with you,” Valerie managed to say, her grin widening into a smile she couldn’t resist.

Right. Shower. Morning. Get ready for work at a boutique that fucked up her life and maybe even wants worse from her, all while she plays the perfect little blankity Blank empty service role. Was the clerk she’d seen in that sketchy world still alive, or did she fade away like tissue paper in water?

But being curled up next to Valerie as her body finally woke to all the feelings, flushed and a little slippery, that Dina smashed down with a hammer, sounded like the perfect day to linger in.

And it was Friday. She could be excused for wanting a long weekend, especially with Valerie.

Valerie reached for her phone and noted that Dawn had an update. Misty braced herself for disappointment, but the update was only about timing and details. Prentiss, Max, and Raleigh were planning a separate early event that didn’t involve bra shopping.

“Little tempted by that,” Valerie admitted. “But it wouldn’t have you. So no contest. We’re gonna have Tracy, Elisa, May, Vivi, and Dawn, of course. Consecutive weeks meetup!”

Misty was warmed by a smile that curled across her face. “How are you feeling about hanging out with almost a dozen other people again?”

Valerie scooted against the pillow. “A dozen is fine. A dozen is great. You’re all my company. The company. My… the company. Oh, that’s so awkward. I am the company and the company is me. That could almost be a song. Later….”

The possibility of Valerie coming up with a new song made Misty’s heart surge, like it wanted to press against the confines of her chest. She bent closer to share more of her smile. Valerie giggled and took a sharp breath.

“You smell so beautiful,” Valerie whispered. “Shame you have to take a shower. Let me help.” Valerie giggled as she lightly licked Misty’s cheek. Cautiously, she even gave a few little love bites, working the spot like a tiny massage. Valerie’s cheeks were as bright and warm as Misty’s felt.

Unfortunately, the fun had to be set aside. A small, nagging needle of need to use the restroom became an urgent, steady pounding in Misty’s bladder. They went together, though.

“Have you had any troubles?” Valerie asked as Misty found relief. Misty shook her head and smiled.

She knew how to wipe, and she knew enough secondhand about UTIs, even though a good number of Dina’s claimed issues on that front invited skepticism in hindsight. They lingered around the sink. Valerie stayed close.

“Seriously, you smell so good. When I’m on the bus sometimes I feel like… lousy. Could be men, could be teenage boys. But so many people don’t realize they smell like something… Uncooked left out in the sun too long.”

Misty recognized that Valerie was adjusting her words carefully. She knew the aroma Valerie was describing. It hadn’t bothered her before, but she’d definitely noticed it on the last bus ride, heading to that first checkup with the boutique. Maybe it had always been there, but this body was far more attuned to how harshly and disgustingly that smell hit.

“Yeah. I know what you mean. And you smell lovely too.” Misty leaned in closer, smiling.

Valerie turned to sniff her shoulders. “Really?”

Misty breathed in the aroma. Valerie’s scent peeked out, nervous, barely a whisper of a presence, squeezing through the underbrush of circulating flowers and subtle ocean waves. Subdued, it rode the careful currents. Misty had to tease it out. She traced a light sniff along the places Valerie had been checking, breathed in, then drew back.

Valerie giggled with airy excitement and peppered her with close kisses.

Despite the compliments, Misty still had to wash up. She started to undress, and Valerie followed by shedding her hoodie. Beneath that practically ever-present blue layer was yet another one. The deeper Valerie.

"You're unarmored, dear, brave knight!" Misty called out with just enough fancy and royal attached to her tone.

Clearing a warble of a breath, Valerie arched her dark eyebrows and noted, “Indeed, milady, ruthlessly vulnerable. But did you not see me the night prior? …There’s not a better term for that, right? All that fancy-pants dialogue has all the perfectly erudite words. Hard to stick to that.”

Misty nodded. “Oh, I saw you. Hard to miss those biggest points.”

It took Valerie a few quiet seconds to catch her meaning. A rush of giggles followed. “I didn’t mean to be quite so… unarmored as all that. But it’s okay with you. And it hardly seems fair that people say I’ve got such a perfect pair. I do fit a B cup. And a D cup. It seems weird, but it’s normal. Just labels and letters anyway.” Valerie tugged at her light top, which clearly showed the presence of a bra underneath.

Valerie’s features were still reserved, even with fewer layers. She wasn’t secretly hiding the same look Misty had so much trouble hiding, but she cut a clearer profile than her usual attire suggested.

“You are so beautiful,” Misty said with dreamy certainty, like a hypnotic truth.

Valerie shifted with a smile. “When you say it, it almost sounds like something about me I can feel. Well, I guess they can stay. For the time being. Even though I’ve never met the Time Being. It sounds spooky. I’m in a weird morning mood…”

Misty slipped down to her last layers and traded hugs with Valerie as she told her, “I love it and you.”

Soon, Misty was naked. Valerie beamed brightly above a faint trace of blush. She didn’t follow up on her shower-sharing threat, but she did rush around to get Misty’s work clothes, fresh towels, and whatever else she needed. The shower felt softly short and deeply cleansing, even though nothing had changed from the last one.

When she stepped out, not even a whisper of cold air caught Misty before she was warmly enveloped in as many towels as Valerie could give. Still, she shivered, and it wasn’t the cold.

Marry Valerie. Be with her for the rest of your life. The idea felt like swooping through the air, a delirious ascent, inevitable joy. She could say that. At any time.

As a stray thought, she reminded herself she still hadn’t given Valerie the strange man in black’s “kindest regards.” She flicked that aside and settled on a more important note. “Is Lillis around?”

Valerie loudly popped her ankles as she stretched, then quickly apologized for the noise before answering Misty’s question. “She is fixing up her little space with the…space stuff, worms, and board games. The room over there. Have you seen it?” She gestured to the wall with the large mirror.

Yeah, the spare room. The solar system poster had made Misty think about how small she was. It wasn’t a big space, but considering their options downstairs and over there, Misty wondered if Lillis could potentially host a smaller get-together.

The skin under Misty’s eyes felt a little dry despite a really helpful shower. She suspected there were probably more than a dozen beauty remedies out there aimed directly at her and the roughness she was feeling. Valerie guided her to a little damp cloth and a dab of petroleum jelly.

Valerie sniffed Misty’s shoulder and declared, “You’re still here,” before planting a kiss on the spot.

After grabbing their phones from the bedroom, the two of them padded over to the spare room and peeked in. Lillis was still there, whispering lightly to herself as she tapped a finger along a row of books and shuffled the position of two.

Lillis spoke after a quick yawn. “Morning. I’ve got everything set up for scrambled eggs however you want them. Out of ham, but there are plenty of other options.”

The room, which had previously looked half cared for, with loose storage and not much floor space, now appeared groomed and vibrant. Scattered things across the floor had been put aside. Books were carefully organized. Several new cushions lay arranged like unfurled hands. And there were curious plushes Misty could only describe as friendly worms.

One to the left looked quite tall, practically five feet, positioned between posters and shelves. It was like an awkward shark, with papery white teeth and a vaguely amusing menace. On the other side, one looked more like a sweet tan puppy in worm form, with gratuitously affectionate eyeballs. Another seemed more like a melted mass of droopy worm cuddles, its head raised in a way that made Misty’s eyebrows climb. Worms had a certain implied and occasionally disguised shape, and this one wore the thinnest disguise.

"They're not official merch," was Lillis's prompt answer to a question neither of them had in mind about the worm plushies.

The collection of critters had been packed away in the side closet behind the stairs, but Lillis had pulled them out in the early morning while tidying, now that they had space. The nipping aroma of dust flavored the air near Misty. Lillis added that she hadn’t vacuumed yet because it would have been unnecessarily loud. Maybe after work or Saturday. Breakfast came first.

Downstairs, the air carried a chorus of whispering vegetables and a crowd of meats sticking together and clambering for attention.

“You look nice,” Lillis offered with a glance Valerie’s way.

Tugging on her top, Valerie brushed her hair back and wore a sweet, calm expression. “Thanks. I’m gonna try to look even nicer later, because I have a temp job. Today and then it’s gonna continue three days next week, at least, but the nice part is I’ll be working at the same shopping center as you two.”

Misty looked over at Valerie and pinched her brows. On such short notice? Valerie admitted she had been trying to bring it up for a while.

“It’s hard to talk about myself. I’m often scared and disappointed, and I’m not doing better in all sorts of areas. Unfinished songs, paintings, and stories. I know, so desperately, that I wanna do better. I just…”

Lillis enveloped Valerie in a hug as she whispered, “You goof. I just want you to be okay. You can ask for help. You can talk to us. Any of us. There’s so many people who care about you. And we all want you to be happy. So don’t worry, kick some employment ass, hang in there, and we’ll have fun tonight.”

Misty smiled beside them. Those were all words she would’ve said herself, in her own way. So she just echoed the feeling and kissed Valerie.

The question of whether Valerie had the energy for a full-on job after everything from the night before hovered in the air. She squashed those concerns gleefully and wanted to be the cook in charge of the eggs for breakfast.

With an angled eyebrow of concern, Lillis sighed and gestured to the setup. Everything was there, it looked good, and it smelled even better. Misty didn’t dwell on food often, but the delightful possibilities before her, along with Valerie being the one in charge of them, sent an unstoppable shiver down her spine.

They each picked out what they wanted in their eggs. Valerie diligently set aside the ingredients and portioned them out. She had to stretch her wrist a little to crack the eggs cleanly. Setting up the first batch, Misty’s, took a little while, and unfortunately the fingers of her right hand strayed too close to the side of the pan.

“SHIT!” Valerie swiftly jerked her hand away and panted as she cradled the fingers.

“I’m fine. I’m fine. Stupid. Well, pain’s the lesson. I’ll be more careful.” She tried to run the coldest water over it, but that just worsened the redness.

“Val! Stop…” Lillis braced her with both hands on her shoulders. “Fuck learning a lesson from pain. Screw pain. All it teaches is more pain. Take a step back. Think. Don’t just react. You can cook breakfast if you want to. But don’t push yourself to breaking.”

Misty stepped in. “Please. You don’t have to do everything yourself.”

Standing there, Valerie remained tense and tight for several seconds until her shoulders finally settled and she puffed out a breath.

“Alright. Fuck, it still hurts. It was actually hurting when I woke up, in the same spot. I need to be careful when I imagine characters. I catch some of their pain.”

Helping out with the pan, Lillis chimed in, “Try catching more of their happiness. Let Tara stop by more often.” That character’s feline inspiration drew a soft meow of curiosity from the edge of the kitchen. Lillis promised to feed her in a minute.

“I’ll work on that…” Valerie conceded.

“Don’t be so sad. It’s gonna be okay.” Lillis touched the side of Valerie’s head and brushed down an especially chaotic section of her hair. Then she rubbed Misty on the shoulder, nudging the two of them toward breakfast and each other.

Neither Valerie nor Misty caught the timing, and the eggs and ingredients browned, but Misty gleefully accepted the less-than-ideal result. Hot flecks of oil nipped at Valerie’s arm as she got started on Lillis’s combination next.

Misty stayed nearby to assist but didn’t hover. The results still came out watery, despite Valerie shifting and folding the scramble into a tight, fluffy mound.

“That one’s mine now because…” Valerie started to say before Lillis intercepted the plate.

“I don’t think so. It’s all the stuff I asked for. Now make yours. Or I’ll have to do it,” Lillis said with a steady smile.

Valerie lifted a few fingers toward the plate, as if she could call it back. She let out a long, slow breath, deflating any further words. Misty cupped her shoulder and asked what she wanted in her scrambled eggs.

Looking over the options, Valerie’s jaw tightened, and she scratched at her neck under her hair. Misty gave her several small moments while filling a glass of water for her. The ingredients sat there unchanged even after Valerie drank half the glass.

Valerie prepared to speak, but suddenly choked when her hair flipped into her mouth. Misty helped brush it back, then held out the water until her throat settled. Lillis checked in but didn’t press.

When she was ready to speak, Valerie conceded, “Just cheese and maybe some pepper and stuff. I don’t need much. It’s fine.”

Misty whispered that soft thought in the barest ingredients of words. Not a request, not even a question, just lingering there for Valerie to take and shape however she wished.

“I don’t care. It’s just eggs. I’ll have whatever,” Valerie said, barely moving her mouth, her body still and stiff. Misty gave her a little peck on the cheek, but it felt more like trying to kiss that Blank clerk. Valerie wobbled.

“Please, don’t worry about me. I’ll take care of this.” Valerie’s hair dipped around her eyes and face as she looked down at the pan. Her fingers, still red, hovered near the metal.

“Is there pepperoni?” It was a small, simple question, and Misty let it join the deep silence.

“What…?” Valerie lifted her head. “Pepperoni? It’s not pizza.”

Misty leaned slightly against the counter. “Doesn’t just have to be on pizza. It’s thinner-sliced sausage, right?”

“Yeah… yeah. Pepperoni. With scrambled eggs. I can make it like pizza. I can make it any way I want. Heck yeah!” The words came gradually at first, then with gathering confidence as the vague notion sharpened into something clear.

She checked the fridge and plucked out exactly what she needed. Along with the eggs, Valerie had an eclectic spread of toppings better suited to pizza, but she happily started tossing them into the pan and folding them into her eggs.

The pepperoni sweated through the scramble, leaving parts crusty and burnt while other parts stayed runny. Despite those obvious flaws, Valerie delicately plated her concoction and showed it off with delight.

While Valerie cooked, Misty kept her own food warm in the microwave, and Lillis went upstairs, where the roll and groaning rumble of a vacuum filtered down from the ceiling. Once everyone had their food, they went upstairs together into the Dune Room, as Misty thought of it, and ate with the last traces of dust finally gone.

Lillis shared a warm laugh at Valerie’s plate but didn’t say anything. Halfway through breakfast, Valerie sat up and started calling out books she recognized, along with favorite moons. She had so much to say about the moons of Mars.

When she ran out of geeky little topics to offer, she turned to the temp job with hopeful uncertainty. “I’ll need to grab my phone.”

Across from her, Lillis set her finished plate aside and tipped her head slightly, eyebrows raised.

“Have you seen it?” Her question wobbled at first but finished strong.

Holding a squat worm in her lap, Misty tipped her head to the side with a sympathetic smile. She knew what she wanted to say but held it back in a little gyre of caution.

The light confusion on Valerie’s face dimmed into a frown. Lillis resisted a sigh, lightly covered her eyes with one hand, and gestured downward with the other.

Valerie followed the gesture and found her phone tightly gripped in her fingers.

“Oh… right. Stupid.”

“No. Understandable. Your mind can wander right now. Make sure it doesn’t happen on the job. Okay? Be safe. Don’t lose that phone.” Lillis picked up her plate and, once on her feet, stretched her hip.

“Okay. Yeah. I’ll do my best.” Valerie’s voice sounded like it came from a lower place in her mouth. She cleared her throat.

“I need to go get prepared and washed up myself. Get ready. We all have work to do.” Lillis took her plate with her and shut the door behind her.

A few stray notes about the planets followed as they finished the last of their breakfast.

“I knew it was going to happen…”

Misty raised her head. “Knew what?”

Valerie held up her right hand and turned it a few times.

“That I was going to burn my fingers. I knew.” She released a slow breath against her lips.

“Intuition?” Misty leaned forward.

Valerie stood and moved over to Misty’s seat, setting her plate aside with Misty’s.

“It’s probably always a safe bet that something chaotic will happen when I’m allowed to cook. But I saw it. I knew I would burn my fingers then. I knew it before it happened.”

They had talked about this. During their date, Valerie had mentioned a vague sense of precognition, though Misty wasn’t sure that was the right word.

“So… if you knew it was going to happen, why did it happen? You could’ve prevented it. Right?”

Valerie leaned back. “Yeah, I could’ve. Maybe. Or maybe I would’ve burned my finger a minute later or something worse would’ve happened. But when I felt it was going to happen, I also had this sense of all the little things between that moment and this one. And I’m happy to be here, with you.” She held out her fingers. The redness had already begun to fade.

“Fair trade, I think.”

Misty drew her arms around her stomach. “So you felt… everything between then and now?”

Valerie winced. “Yeah, that sounds bad. I phrased it poorly. As I said before, I don’t exactly know what’s going to happen. It’s really hard to describe. More like… oh, I am going to burn my finger. This feeling, this hurt, this pain. But it’ll get better. Good thing, better thing, feeling better. It’s only in hindsight I can be like, okay, that’s what it meant. And it’s like trying to catch an invisible spider thread in the breeze. Sometimes it just grazes you with a vague impression, and that’s all you get.”

Misty pressed her teeth into her lower lip with a frown wriggling at the side of her mouth. She slowly took a breath. Valerie squeezed her hands together into a tight little ball on her lap, shoulders tight, legs close.

“I don’t mind if you think all this is bullshit. But…”

Swiftly, Misty wrapped her arms around Valerie, enclosing her warmth. “I don’t think that. Believe me. So many things, small and big, have happened these last few weeks. I trust you. When we were at the arcade, I saw that woman with gray hair who looked like a cruel corporate-manager version of Lillis. My boss, I guess. The lady who made… her coffee cup disappear.” And Nell disappear too… but that was more than Misty could say.

She coughed slightly and drew a few tissues from the nearby box. The dust was gone, but the tight feeling remained. Valerie didn’t press her. She listened and waited for Misty to continue.

“It was like a nightmare where everything was frozen in place. And I watched as this woman taunted me. She called Lillis a liar. Hinted she was one of many. And she wanted to use me. Use all of us. Talked about someone she knew who would consider you a tasty morsel if you… were younger. I’m sorry. I should’ve said something when it happened. I didn’t know if it was real. But with everything, it’s safer to say.”

Misty didn’t crumble, despite how unsteady she felt where she sat. Valerie listened diligently, leaning in to catch every word Misty shared.

Misty rocked her head slightly and added one more thing, even though her mind wanted to shake it off before she said it. “When this was happening, if it happened, I saw your eyes shift, as if you were the only other person not totally frozen. Sorry. You probably don’t know what the heck I’m talking about. But just in case, I didn’t want to keep it to myself.”

Valerie eased back a moment after Misty finished. “Don’t be sorry. That’s my job. Kidding… But we promised each other not to hide in apology. Would be cool to move in a frozen moment. Reminds me of the Flash. Though I kinda like Lanterns more. I don’t know. Blue and Indigo Lanterns, though. I mean… thank you for telling me. Even though I don’t remember anything weird from then, that’s all I’ve got.” Valerie looked her in the eye with a tightly curled frown.

“And there was one more thing. Not bad, just weird. This guy in all black, who escorted me back to work when I first met that creepy boss. His suit kind of looked like a dragon pattern, and his hair was slicked back. Ladon, I think…”

Valerie’s eyebrows did several little wiggles, and she lifted her phone to open Google. She turned the screen to show her results.

LADON.

Misty shrugged, though it sounded right to her. Valerie kept looking at the screen.

“I need to ask May or Max about the pronunciation. Greek stuff. I was looking up mythology recently. Curiosity. Dragon with a hundred heads, which sounds kinda like a hydra. What was the thing?”

The moment felt unreal, as though Misty wasn't actually here talking to Valerie, but adrift somewhere far away, maybe in that dream library, maybe in one of those weird, impossible hallways off the boutique. She sucked in a strong breath to steady herself.

“He asked me to give you his kindest regards.”

Valerie adjusted the tilt of her head by several small degrees, as if that tweak of perspective might clarify everything.

“Me…? Give me? He knew me?”

“Miss Weber. Is how he put it.”

“Creepy-ass boutique people…” Valerie muttered. “Better than unkindest regards, I guess. The mythological Ladon guarded the golden apples of the gods. Might be a codename worth mentioning to Prentiss, to sic his brain on. Anything to clamp down on those jerks.”

They moved toward each other for a hug that felt right, but accidentally connected boobs first. Misty quickly stammered a soft sound while restraining apologies. Valerie giggled and gently settled.

“Don’t worry about it. So many things, and what can we really know? I’m just happy for this moment. Work, stress, more pain, uncertainty, stomach aches, bras, games, smiles, snacks, friends, and hopes await. We gotta get ready.” Valerie said it with more knowledgeable calm than she expected to find in herself.

Misty dropped her hands and asked, “Should we tell Lillis? About that frozen moment and the dragon-name guy? I’ve left both out when talking to her. You’re the first I’ve told.”

Slowly, Valerie drew her phone back to rest against her stomach, pulling a breath with it. “I think that’s your call. If you wanna tell her. I expect skepticism. Maybe Prentiss will want her to know, but you should tell him about that guy. I think.”

“Okay. Probably tonight. Or something,” Misty said quietly.

“The golden apples…” Valerie rolled the phrase around in her mouth. “Though I am old…with wandering. Through hollow lands and hilly lands. I will find out where she has gone. And kiss her lips and take her hands. And walk among long dappled grass. And pluck till time and times are done… The silver apples of the moon. The golden apples of the sun.”

Quietly, without any fuss, tears streamed down Valerie’s cheeks, and she drew in a breath like she was desperate for more air.

“Are you okay…?” Misty asked with urgent softness.

Valerie let her tears stand until she gently wiped them away. “That’s Yeats. And yeah, I’m great. Because you’re here… and there’s work. We’ve got work. Work we both need to get ready for.”

The plates went back downstairs for several swift scrubs and a long soak. Uniforms went on, and Valerie showcased her black pantsuit, complete with actual pockets in the blazer that went deep.

The blouse underneath was neatly collared, but a more reserved color than her usual hoodie. Blue trim traced the edges of the suit and brightened the stark feel of the getup.

Misty had to take several seconds to process what Valerie was wearing, and Valerie had to tug at the sleeves and shoulders several times, as though she could dislodge it like a tearaway costume and slip into something more comfortable with just the right pull.

“I really need to fart, but I shouldn’t…” Valerie groaned at the front door. Misty laid a hand near her stomach in sympathy.

Valerie’s hair looked about as straight and organized as it ever got when Misty brushed it the other night. Even so, Valerie kept wanting to shake her head like something was holding her down.

In the truck, the two of them sat together in the back, but leaned forward to almost touch Lillis, with just the cushion in their way. They coordinated when they would meet up again. Phones were double-checked. Stomachs gave their quiet complaints. And the boutique waited.

Valerie’s job wasn’t far from the boutique, but it was still far enough that they had to hug, share a few kisses, and watch the other recede from sight.

Appointments and troubleshooting laid into Misty as soon as she arrived, letting all deeper, external thoughts slide away. She pressed her voice a little softer and a little more feminine, fake warm and full-bright. Occasionally, a voice that would’ve been for Valerie flavored the edges.

Later in the morning, she dealt with inventory, swapping out and transferring tablet information, along with making sure threshold curtains were clean, reset, and monitored.

Without thinking, without Lillis nearby, Misty soon realized her chores had taken her past the normal places and back into that unfriendly eggshell space, its rounded cover cold and insulating.

Turning to her right to find the path back, she noticed one door in particular. A different door, much older. Lost from a castle.

She checked both ways as though some unseen traffic could run her over. Reaching out, she tested the grip of the worn, scuffed, heavy doorknob. It was so cold that it lashed her fingers like venom teeth. She didn’t pull back. She twisted it quickly.

A thunk reverberated deep in her bones, passing through the door and all around her. The door drew back slowly, silently, and she pushed at the edge to peer through.

On the other side was a room that belonged even less than the hallway did. A short stone passage with rounded, cathedral-like arches loomed above her. Ahead, it opened into a vaulted chamber of old, faded stone, the floor scored with concentric rings. The air carried the same hostile, slashing cold, along with a bitter dryness like a tomb. Each footstep scratched beneath her feet and seemed to die there, refusing to travel any farther than her legs.

Darkened corridors led off in several directions, but her focus caught on the space at the center.

It looked like a steampunk version of the old better-or-worse machine from eye exams. Golden tubes intersected and coiled around one another, some looping smoothly, others jutting at harsh mechanical angles like broken joints set in brass. A crown of gyroscopic rings hung over the main structure, and at its center sat a pair of oversized viewing lenses, one whispering a thin, dreamy blue, the other burning with a deeper, shimmering gold. A swarm of angry insect buzzes pulsed from the blue, like a strange engine not so much idling as barely restrained. Behind them came metal ticks, delicate and awful, like a cooling clock.

Below sat a leather chair bolted to the floor, fitted with a brass footrest. Worn housings and articulated arms crowded its sides. It looked like something left over from an old, cruel medical experiment. It had the look of something long used.

Misty didn’t need a sign or a label to tell her what she was looking at.

The Aperture.

This was the Aperture. She had found it.

Or it found her.

No. Fuck that.

Misty spun on her heel, strode back through the darkened hallway, lunged for the old door before it could bend shut, and slammed it behind her. Eggshell light swallowed her again.

“Hell no…” she whispered to herself.

Leaning away from it, she stood in the middle of that impossible hallway with her head down and checked left and right again.

She could look back. Maybe that wretched door would be gone. But it was probably still there. She could feel it like a dirty fingertip reaching for the back of her neck.

If she had her phone, she could take pictures of the room, of the Aperture, of the way here. Pictures Prentiss could use. Pictures somebody could use. But it was back in her locker. Safety and security measures.

Would she ever be able to get back here again? Would anyone want to?

Just look back. Confirm it wasn’t just some lunch break nightmare. Not even a full turn. Just a glance.

It would be so easy. It would help everyone. Check behind you. Confirm the door. Make sure it’s real. Not a full turn. A little glance. The darkness against the blinding light.

Nothing to it. Just an accident as you’re leaving. Catch it at the edge of your vision. The wise thing to do. Relief.

The smallest peek. That’s all.

Misty shut her eyes tight and crept forward, away from the door. Step. Step. Step. Step…

She was moving forward, right?

Vertigo hit her so hard it felt like the hallway had tilted out from under her.

The door was in front of her. It had to be. She could taste it in the air. How didn’t matter. It wasn’t going to let her go without another look.

This was crazy. It was just a damned door. Look and get out of here already. Stop acting like this. The door was just a door.

Misty squeezed her eyes even tighter until colors burst against the dark behind them. They gathered themselves into a tall, looming rectangle. Her eyes were still closed.

“Stop it!”

She could barely feel her legs beneath her. Something was drawing her in, urging her to meet it, to be consumed. She was alone. Just her, no one else in all the world, in all reality, a tiny speck in the infinite cosmos.

Blue. A tiny hint of blue, faint but there, bending in from the side, reaching toward her. And somehow she knew that blue meant warmth, love, acceptance no matter what. A curl of green shimmered above a smile. Warmth and light to spite the darkness.

Valerie. She was there, and yet Misty knew it wasn’t really her. But it felt like her. Misty clung to that feeling the way someone lost at sea might cling to the north star.

Something colder framed the sides of her face. Nails. Claws. Delicate as a lover, patient as a trap. Not cutting her. Only guiding her toward the thing that wanted to be seen. Open your eyes and witness the truth.

She reached out for Valerie and stumbled.

The room felt different. Carefully, she cracked her eyes open and looked down at the floor. No eggshell white. The dim stone of the boutique. One of the back storage hallways, where she was supposed to be. Nothing strange. Uncommonly normal. Her tablet lay on the floor.

Misty let out a breath, retrieved the device, and went back to work.