Gracefully, Minerva leapt to the counter, where she sat herself imperiously.
Alex sighed at her paranoia. Was she expecting the terror from the dream to come out and catch her here?
She glanced into the mirror again as she reached for the tap, and was surprised to see the echoes of fear in her own eyes.
“What is wrong with me?” she asked herself, angry again. Why these terrible dreams, every few nights? Dreams of people and places she must have read about once upon a time; dreams that had more clarity than documentaries she’d seen. She shook her head.
As if in answer to her question, the cat crept closer, and took a half-hearted swipe at the pendant which hung from Alex's neck, tantalisingly swinging above the sink.
Alex looked down in surprise, having forgotten she was wearing it. It had been her mother’s - a gift from a woman she barely knew.
She caught it up, away from the cat, and examined it...
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