Working on the blueprints for the DeWitt Museum. I slid off the bed, my legs shaky as I stood up. My pores cooled with sweat as I looked around the unfamiliar bedroom, and my brain wracked with what the hell was going on. My shoes were gone, but on instinct I peered over the side of the bed and saw my sneakers sitting there, perfectly positioned on a fancy white rug with gold filigree. I laid on top of the bed, still fully clothed in my black, skinny pants and a pullover white blouse that I’d dressed in this morning. I grabbed them and slipped them on, taking inventory of my body first. I dropped my eyes, spotting my glasses folded and sitting on the bedside table. I pushed myself up, my head aching and every muscle tight like I’d been sleeping for a damn week. I looked around the lavish bedroom-white, gold, crystal, and mirrors everywhere, palatial in its opulence like I’d never seen in person-and my breathing turned shallow as instant fear took over. I rolled my eyes around me, confusion sinking in as I took in myself burrowed comfortably in the middle of a huge bed, my body taking up about as much room as a single M&M inside its package. I patted my face, feeling my glasses missing. My head rested on the softest pillow, and I moved my arm, brushing my hand over a cool, splendidly plush white comforter.

I blinked my eyes, stirring from the heaviest sleep I think I’ve ever had. Like I was behind a waterfall, deep inside a cave.

Nightfall penelope douglas pages