The leather couch was cool beneath her fingertips. She was back in the basement. But from what she could see in the harsh light glaring from the television screens, no one else was there. The drafty basement air hit her skin. She sat for a moment, grappling with the memory of her dream, then slowly lifted her arms to inspect her skin. Surely enough, there were still scrapes from where she had slid between the ground and the rock of the wall. Her clothes were covered in a layer of dirt, and her skin was still sheened with sweat from the humid air of the village. She wasn’t sure what was real in that moment, but she knew for certain that her dreams were not just dreams.
She stood slowly, still disoriented, and cast her gaze to the small window at the far end of the room. Red and blue lights
