She pitches Alice in Wonderland and its stupid bunny and the stupid smiling cat away from her as hard as she can.

It flies, pages fluttering, spine-first into a mass of bushes-- 

--it's back in her hands.

--it's back in her hands and she's lying down on her stomach, again.

That was...

That wasn't even near her house.

She was standing under the tree and her house was behind her and she threw the book and it landed in the bushes and then everything reset.

What does that mean?

She goes to wipe away her tears but her eyes aren't wet.

And then she walks over to the bushes.

Her foot touches the edge of the bush.

Again.

She stops before the bush this time, rips up a piece of grass until she can see the dirt underneath. 

Then she moves over to the left and keeps walking.

She makes it a little further.

Again.

The patch of dirt is gone but she remembers where it was supposed to be. 

She marks the part to the left of it this time, and inches more to the left.

Again.

Again.

Again...

She doesn't know how long it takes for her to map out whatever it is.

It doesn't matter. The edge goes all the way around, with her and the book and the oak tree in the middle. It never gets any closer to her house.

When she is done--when she gets back to the bush with its little white and pink flowers, she stares at it for the longest time, and then sinks to the ground.

She curls up, exhausted even though her body doesn't feel like it, and doesn't look at her house; eventually, she nods off and sleeps.

Down, down, down, says the page underneath her fingers.

She gets up slowly, brushing the grass off her pants. She counts off her steps as she walks over towards her house and stops at twenty-six. Her book is in hand as she sits down cross-legged. She thinks she could read it, maybe. See if Alice has an answer to this bad dream. How did she get out of Wonderland, anyway?

It's a thin hope; it doesn't pan out.

Over the course of however long, after much panicking and slip-ups and tears, she learns that after Cassie and her mom go back in, her mom goes back out and looks at Adra.

She looks at her.

She looks at her and she doesn't see her, no matter what Adra does. She's too far away for Adra to make out her expression, and then she turns and shouts and Lis comes tumbling out. Her sister is wearing this blue shirt with white stripes with the little frilly skirt, the opposite of Adra's, which Adra supposes her mom thought was funny because of the twin thing. And Lis strides off the porch steps and towards her and Adra stands, heart in her throat, waiting.

(she remembers the very moment when her heart breaks.

she'd imagined that lis would come annoyed and pouty like she always does when adra stays out too late.

she'd imagined that lis would come and step right over the invisible line burned in her mind's eye. 

she'd imagined that lis would come and stop right in front of her, hands on hips, and say, adra, mom wants you to come and get ready for dinner, and she'd roll her eyes when adra tries to get up and fails because her legs are too needle-y, and she'd hold out her hand and haul adra to her feet, and then they would go back together to their house and Cassie and mom and dad and they would eat slightly burnt chicken because that's what her mom always tries to cook after her dad comes back from a trip and he'd tell a silly joke and they'd all groan and laugh anyway and then she'd go back to their room and snuggle under the covers with lis because she doesn't want to be alone anymore, and everything would be fine.

the sun is high above her head, and lis never comes.)

epilogue - and back again

One day, Adra sees something different.

One day, as she is curled up against the tree because moving got too hard to do, a woman and a man appear in thin air right before her eyes, halfway between the Line and her tree. They wave around small and boxy remotes and talk like they don't see her, until they do, and then they're looking at her and it's too much but she can't stop looking back, eyes wide, and they say Adra? Adrastea? but the words don't sound like her name anymore, just sounds, and somehow they are closer and murmuring something like it's alright, you're safe now, but she's still waiting for them to disappear; for some reason, they don't. 

The woman puts something on her shoulder and she lets her; the man lingers for a moment and then moves around her and the tree with his remote out. And then they are both in front of her and saying something about moving and when she doesn't respond they look at each other and the woman asks her if she could pick her up and Adra remembers how to nod.

And then everything is different and loud and indoors. 

Adra never ever sleeps alone ever again.