Page 18 of The Manor of Dreams

She crept down the stairs. Sharp leaves and debris jabbed into herfeet and she grimaced. Still she tread carefully over to her mother, who faced the garden. “Ma?”

“She’s there.” Ma stretched her hand out. Her fingers were streaked with dirt as if she had been tearing at the ground with her bare hands.

“Who is? What happened?”

Nora reached out to put a hand on her mother’s shoulder. Her mother jerked around, and Nora scrambled back.

Ma’s lips cleaved apart in a silent scream. Tears streamed down her cheeks. She took short, fast breaths and turned her glassy eyes to Nora.

Then her features relaxed. She said softly, “You’rehere.”

“Yes,” Nora said. “I am, in fact, here. You should go inside.?????.”You’re going to catch a cold.

Her mother stared at her, unblinking.

“Come on,” Nora urged. A small laugh of disbelief escaped her. This felt wrong.

She was about to head back when she felt fingers clamp down on her wrist. Nora gave a yelp and whipped back around to see her mother’s eerily calm face again.

“You’ve been here all this time,” her mother whispered tenderly.

Nora tugged, harder than she should have. “Comeon,?.” Her voice rose, as though the problem was Ma’s hearing. “Let’s go in.”

Her mother stood shakily, squeezing Nora’s wrist. She followed Nora back to her room without easing her viselike grip, until she was settled into bed. As Nora tucked the blankets around her, her mother finally looked up at Nora’s face. “You haven’t left,” Ma said. “You’ve always been here waiting for me.”

Nora didn’t respond. Ma pulled the blankets to her neck like a child while Nora carefully stepped away. When she slipped out the doorway, she felt her mother’s eyes on her back.

Nora brought her mother a cup of hot water in the morning. When she walked in, Ma stirred and shifted toward the direction of the steps.

Nora put the cup on the dusty nightstand and sat at the edge of the bed. “How are you?”

“Migraine’s worse today,” her mother mumbled. She eased herselfup. Her wispy hair, which was usually tied back, fell over her shoulders. The curtains were still drawn.

Nora looked toward the side table, where tissues were crumpled with dried blood. “Are you okay?”

“???. It’s too dry out here.”

Nora had seen Ma get nosebleeds before, but still, it worried her to see her mother in this state. Especially after last night.

“You shouldn’t have been outside,” Nora said. “It was cold. I knew it wouldn’t be good.” She paused. “What happened, anyway?”

Ma stared at her. “I wasn’t outside.”

“Yes, you were.” Did Ma not remember any of it? Nora had seen the pain on her mother’s face with perfect clarity every time she closed her eyes last night. “You were out in the garden. You spoke to me. Don’t you remember?”

Her mother sat up and narrowed her eyes. “Nora, I was asleep.”

Nora reached for her mother’s hand and held it to the light. Dirt was still caked under her nails. “Look. Look at this. You were walking in the garden. I came out because there was an earthquake earlier in the night, and—” She faltered. “You really don’t remember?”

Ma looked from her hands to Nora, her eyes blank. Then she winced, holding her fingertips to her temples as she sank back down and curled up again.

Was her mother lying? Confused? Or did she truly have no memory? Ma had never sleepwalked before, as far as Nora knew, but it was the only explanation that made sense. Stress could make your body do strange things.

She pulled up the sleeve of her sweatshirt. There was a small bruise. Nora could remember her mother’s fingers digging into her wrist, her glassy stare.

She didn’t dream any of this up. Not this time.

seven

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