Ilsa nodded, then remembered the dispatcher couldn't see her.“Yes, I will.Please hurry.”
As she disconnected the call, the full impact of what she had discovered washed over her.In all her years recording testimonies about the darkest acts humans could inflict on one another, she had never witnessed the aftermath of violence firsthand.Now, in the quiet dawn of a day that had begun so normally, she had stumbled upon something that defied comprehension.
*
Jenna's boots crunched through snow that shouldn't exist.The forest clearing where Claudia Kingsley's body had been discovered yesterday now lay transformed under a blanket of pristine white, unmarred by footprints other than her own.A chill wind stirred the pines, sending crystalline powder swirling into the air.The incongruity registered immediately—it was early October, too early for snow in Missouri, and the temperature yesterday had been mild.
Then a familiar realization settled over her: she was dreaming.Lucid, but not in complete control.Jenna was never in control of who came to visit.
“Cold,” she whispered, her breath forming clouds that dissipated into the frigid air.The word echoed in her memory, connecting with something Piper had said when they'd brought her to this spot.Her sister had shivered, complained about the cold, despite the autumn warmth.Now Jenna understood—Piper had sensed this very dreamscape, this winter forest from some other reality.
The transition from normal dream to lucid awareness sharpened Jenna’s perceptions.Every detail crystallized—the weight of snow on pine boughs, the particular quality of winter silence, the bite of cold against her cheeks.She flexed her fingers inside gloves she hadn't been wearing moments before, testing the boundaries of this constructed reality.
She lifted her gaze to the oak tree that had been used as a macabre display post.Where Claudia Kingsley's body had hung yesterday inside a burlap wolf, a wolf mask now dangled alone.Its snout was elongated, eyes hollow and dark, teeth bared in a permanent snarl.It spun slowly, as if surveying the clearing for prey.
“It's not very realistic, is it?”
Jenna turned sharply toward the voice.A woman stood at the edge of the clearing, dressed in a red hooded cloak that blazed like blood against the snow.Beneath it, she wore a white dress that reached her ankles, its fabric simple and old-fashioned.Her blonde hair spilled from the hood, framing a face Jenna recognized immediately.
“Claudia,” Jenna said, her voice steady despite the strangeness of addressing a woman whose corpse she had examined yesterday.
Claudia Kingsley tilted her head, studying the wolf mask with detached curiosity.“That's not what wolves look like.The snout is too long.And the teeth—” She made a dismissive gesture.“Pure fantasy.”
Jenna took a careful step toward her.This was always the delicate part—the dead rarely understood their situation.Some seemed to know they had died, others existed in a state of confusion, and a few denied their fate entirely.
“Claudia, do you know why you're here?”Jenna asked.
The woman in red held up a wicker basket that Jenna hadn't noticed before.“I'm supposed to deliver these to my grandmother.But I think I've taken a wrong turn.The forest looks different in winter.”
“Do you remember what happened to you?”Jenna pressed gently.
Claudia's brow furrowed.“What do you mean?”
“Yesterday.Do you remember anything about yesterday?”
A shadow passed across Claudia's face, distress quickly replaced by the same placid expression.“I was rehearsing.We're doing fairy tales this season.”She gestured at her costume.“Type-casting, I suppose.I've always been better at playing the innocent.”
Jenna knew this was pure imagination on Claudia’s part.She felt the familiar frustration of these encounters—the circling conversations, the inability of some who met her here to directly confront their own deaths.Sometimes they provided clues, fragments of memory that helped solve their murders.Other times, they seemed locked in loops of their own making, unable to offer anything useful.
“Who hurt you, Claudia?”Jenna asked directly, hoping to break through.
Claudia looked toward the hanging wolf mask, her expression unreadable.“The wolf, of course.That's how the story goes.”She turned back to Jenna.“But in some versions, the huntsman saves her.Did you know that?Cuts open the wolf's belly and pulls her out, still alive.”She smiled sadly.“I always preferred those versions.”
Before Jenna could respond, a different voice cut through the stillness of the clearing behind her—a woman's voice, tight with distress.
“It's so cold in here.Please, can't someone help me?”
Jenna turned toward the sound.At the opposite edge of the clearing, partially obscured by snow-laden pine branches, stood what looked like a display case—no, a coffin.A glass coffin, its transparent sides frosted at the edges, its gold-trimmed frame gleaming dully in the winter light.
Inside lay a woman Jenna didn't recognize.Unlike Claudia's storybook appearance, this woman wore ordinary clothes—jeans and a cream-colored sweater.Her dark hair fanned out beneath her head on a cushion of white silk.Her eyes were open, alert and frightened, and her breath fogged the inside of the glass lid as she called out again.
“Please!I can't get out!”Her palms pressed against the underside of the glass.
Jenna approached the coffin, the snow crunching beneath her boots.She remembered that friendly dwarfs had put Snow White in a glass coffin when she seemed to be dead.This was another fairy tale made manifest in the dream realm.But unlike the peaceful, death-like sleep of the storybook princess, this woman was fully conscious and panicking.
“I'm here,” Jenna said, reaching the coffin's side.“I'll try to help you.”
The woman's eyes locked onto Jenna's, filled with desperate hope.“Thank God.I've been trapped for so long.It's freezing in here.”