~Selene’s POV~
She tells her mother about the dreams on a Tuesday evening in the small kitchen that has become, over the course of five months, its own version of ordinary.
She has not planned to tell her. She has been sitting with the dreams the way she sits with all information that arrives without a full context — carefully, privately, filed in the part of her mind that holds things not yet ready to be named. But they are now five nights deep into the second dream's recurrence, and she has watched her mother three times this week and chosen silence, and the choosing has begun to cost something.
She tells her the way she tells most things: briefly, in plain language, looking at the table.
The presence. The quality of the light that has no quality she can name in ordinary terms. The s
