“Alice,” she heard in her sleep, but her slumbering mind told her it was part of her dream. She and Johnny were in a gondola in Venice, moonlight streaming down on them. Then she heard “Alice” again, and this time it jolted her to consciousness. Her mind was so attuned to his voice, she knew it even in the throes of a nebulous dream.
“What is it? Johnny? What is it?” She opened her eyes, but the room was pitch black and quiet as death.
“Alice, I have to talk to you.” His voice was soft but edgy. It thrust her into acute awareness.
“What? What is it?”
He rolled over and the mattress gave as he lit the bedside lamp. His form was ghostly in the lamp"s pale glow. “Alice, I need you to help me with something.” He turned to her and held her hands. Thankfully they were warm.
“What? Now, in t
