If her best friend couldn’t see it and help her understand it, if she couldn’t share it the way she had shared everything else obscure and difficult since she was a child, then Bettina wasn’t interested. More than that, she felt betrayed. If Zelda couldn’t see the hole and couldn’t walk down through the darkness to that little spot of English fantasy, then there was a gulf between them.
Bettina refused to accept a gulf between herself and her best friend. She was not going to accept that hole or that lake. They were fictions.
While Bettina won an argument with her inner dreamer, Melissa was walking the walk and talking the talk. The talk was to herself.
She’d found the exploration with Bettina uncomfortable and she needed to know why. She could just have asked, but she knew the sort of
