The rest of the weekend passed slowly and painfully. Pax slept fitfully. Even with her “kick,” she was still terrified of getting sucked into a dream from which she could never return. At one point on Sunday morning, she felt flickers of the beach, the heat, the sound of waves, but they were quickly and aggressively interrupted by the blaring gong of her new alarm. It resounded throughout the house, even managing to rouse her father.
“Turn that damn thing off!” he’d shouted.
There was no doubt that the gift from Ayana would be effective, or at least she hoped it would be if she became fully engrossed in her dream again.
She spent the remainder of her downtime trying to make sense of the research that was supposed to be helping her control her “abilities,” or whatever they were. She wasn
