Her first child, her son, was so full of darkness -
She could see it, she knew him, she loved him, and she could've taught him better if only he'd stayed -
"But," she sighs.
She sets her backpack down and rummages in it for a ball of twine. She hands the ball to Vanessa, pulls out a thread, wraps it a couple times around her palm. "I'll tug on this twice, every so often," she says, "and you tug on it twice back. If I ever don't feel you I'll come back as fast as I can."
She takes a deep breath, and steps inside the armoire, and starts sidling sideways.
"Can you hear me?" she calls after just a minute.
"I'm just past where I should be able to be - can you bang on the wall of the dresser? The one I just went through. I wanna see where it sounds like you're hitting it."
She can't get the angle for a proper slap, but she can slip her hand between the two dressers again and sort of slap it back and forth, taptaptaptaptap on the wall Kaylee just walked through. "Could you hear that?"
"Yeah. It sounded like you were hitting the back wall. This is weird."
She keeps sidling, tugging twice every few seconds.
"There's a corner. Like, the little passageway turns. Toward the back wall. I'm gonna look around it."
"There's a light," she says. "The passageway goes on for a little bit and then - there's a light at the end of it."
"No, it's steady," she says quickly. "It's like - a forest in autumn."
"This leg's a lot longer," she calls, voice faint, after a little while. "Light's getting bigger."
"Kinda - curvy? Not straight lines like the rest of the wardrobe." Wardrobe, that's the word. "I'm gonna keep going."