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Lisa woke with a start, looking sleepily around her. She could decipher dark shapes, rectangles and squares. Bleary eyed, she wondered momentarily where she was before she realized that she was surrounded by her bedroom furniture. The morning sunlight filtered in through gaps underneath and at the sides of dark green, velvet curtains. She rubbed at her eyes. She had been dreaming about the girl again, for the second consecutive night, the same dream: Lisa was standing on the roadside with the lake and the woods behind her. The girl was in the back of a car, and she was banging on the window, silently mouthing the word “help”. Lisa was stuck to the spot, unable to move, as the car drove slowly away, and the girl’s frightened face disappeared out of sight. The dream had been so vivid, it
