EXCERPT:

She woke up hours later, in her own bed, her night light the only light in the room. She sat up, confused, not remembering how she'd gotten down from the top of that awful machine – out of the cage.Then the dream came back to her and she felt herself relax – the whole situation was one of her dreams. She was never trapped two stories up, afraid and with no one but Dylan. It was just a dream. Her hand reached reflexively for Wacoon – the stuffed raccoon that lived on her bed, who she had named before being able to pronounce the letter “R” properly. She found him right where she'd left him, but gripping his tail to pull him to her caused a pain to shoot from her palm straight up her arm.

Karyn cried out, in surprise and pain, and pulled her hands back until she could see them clearly. Her palms had been bandaged, but there was no doubt about it – the scrapes she'd received when she was thrown into the cage were real; and they looked exactly as they had in her dream.

Dylan didn't make a sound from where he was curled up in a fuzzy ball at the foot of her bed. His form was his quietest and most cryptic of all – a gray fox gazed at her silently from the corner of the bed.
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