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I heard the door unlock, then gently croak open. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself standing in front of three women, hunched about each other, all trying to see who was on the other side of the door.
One of them was a tall, statuesque, older woman with a severe, pale face and perfect poise. She was wearing a dark, jade nightgown with a furry hood, and she regarded me at first with a kind of wary curiosity. Behind her, and to one side, was a bubbly looking woman with half-moon spectacles hanging from the bridge of her nose. The third woman standing in the doorway was the youngest of the three—she had bright, blonde hair and she was incredibly beautiful.
These… were my grandmothers.
Helen.
Pepper.
Evie.
Before my mother made it to Arcadia, these women raised her as their own. I had been here once or twice before, but I hadn’t been here for some time. I doubted if they even recognized me. I wanted to speak, to explain myself, tointroducemyself, but all I could do was swallow. Again. And again. And again.
“Child,” Mother Helen finally said, her eyes widening. One of her hands flew to her chest, and with the other she reached out to me, as if to embrace me. “What in theworldare you doing here?”
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