The dream started soft.
I was sitting in a field of something green—grass, maybe, or clover, or something else entirely. The sky was blue, the way skies are supposed to be, and the sun was warm on my face, and I was laughing. I couldn't remember the last time I'd laughed. The sound felt strange in my throat, foreign, like a language I'd forgotten I spoke.
Rue was beside me.
Not dead. Not hollow-eyed. Not the woman who'd led me through an abandoned building and told me Gabriel was dead. She was young, and her hair was bright in the sunlight, and she was laughing too.
"You're so silly," she said.
"I'm not silly. I'm—"
"You're Bunny. Gabriel's favorite. The one he couldn't stop talking about."
"He talked about me?"
"All the time. You're all he talked about, in the end. You were the only one who mattered."
"What about you?"
"I was before. A stepping stone. A practice run."
She smiled, and it didn't look sad.
"But I don't mind. I'm glad he found you. I'm glad you made him happy."
"He's not happy. He's gone. He left me."
"He's waiting for you."
"Where?"
"Somewhere safe. Somewhere no one can find him. Somewhere only you can go."
"Take me there."
"I can't. You have to find your own way."
She reached out and touched my face. Her fingers were warm.
"But he's waiting. He's always been waiting. He'll always be waiting."
"Promise?"
"Promise."
The dream shifted.
I was standing in a room I didn't recognize. White walls. No windows. A single chair in the center of the floor, facing away from me.
Rue was in the chair.
Not laughing now.
Not smiling.
Her eyes were open, but they weren't looking at anything.
Her throat was bruised.
