There was a bite in the air, causing me to shiver while I waited. I ran my teeth over my bottom lip as the wind picked up. Staring at the gray, unfeeling prison block, I should have been happy to go, but I wasn’t.

I adjusted my ponytail and sighed, my breath visible in front of my face. He’d be here any minute. My lips felt chapped from licking them; it was a bad habit I got into when I was nervous, and I had reason to be. I’d be talking with my father, but I wasn’t worried about him.

More for him. My attitude had become hardened in prison. Would I be able to keep my cool? Of course, I would, but would he?

It felt bittersweet as the cab pulled up, its honey-yellow body reflecting the periodic sunlight that broke through the fluffy autumn clouds. Black matte lettering indicated the company’s name, “Golden Bee Taxi,” with a clipart image of a cartoon bumble.

The driver came out and opened the back door in a chivalrous manner. I grasped my collar on the old ratty sweater I was wearing, twisting the pilling, and then entered the vehicle. Buckling myself in, I was instantly comforted by the hot air from the vents, especially my cold, bare knees in my ripped jeans.

The cab driver slid inside, rubbing his hands together, and then turned around.

“Where to?”

My stomach knotted as I gave him directions to my grandfather’s villa. It had been handed down to my mother, Sophie, years ago. I wasn’t proud to come to such a beautiful home as an ex-prisoner, but at least my mom would be there. She understood what I’d gone through.

Although the window was slightly dirty, I could see the prison becoming smaller through the speckled glass. Pursing my lips, I nodded one last time, bidding it goodbye.

The rocking and rhythmic coasting of the car on the highway made my lids feel heavy. I thought that after being imprisoned for three years, I’d be enthralled with freedom, too excited with the sights and sounds, but it turned out I couldn’t stay awake. Soon, I was deeply asleep.

My dreams seemed innocuous enough at first.

I was at the villa, coming home. The sun was shining as I rode up to the door. As I left the car, however, the sky magically darkened, and rain began to fall. I was standing in front of my father’s house with his lover Amanda, who detested me. Their daughter Ava was nearby with a smirk on her face.

Their ghostly faces warped and cracked like reflections of broken mirrors. I didn’t understand how I knew, but they wanted me gone. And my mother was sick on her deathbed… I knew this, too, but had no idea of the circumstances.

Turning around from Amanda, the realization that Mom was about to die crushed me like a hammer into the ground. My feet felt full of lead as I tried to vacate the premises, but I had to get out of there no matter how upset I was.

I made my way to the hospital, where my mother lay pale and incoherent. As I knelt by her bedside, I spoke to her, grasping her left hand in both of mine and pressing her cold, clammy fingers to my forehead. Briefly, the coolness gave me relief from my fevered face.

“Mom, please hold on,” I begged. The pain cut deeply like a searing flame inside my chest seeing her in this state. I was there barely a few minutes when the doctors rushed into the room, telling me it was time to go. I knew she was dying in front of my eyes.

“There has to be more you can do!” I shouted, my cries strangled as I pleaded with them. Scanning them in horror, the doctors and nurses refused to speak until a bold man stepped forward. He was the head doctor, Asclepius; somehow, this was something I was privy to as well.

“Olivia, we’ve done all that we can. Without money, we can’t keep her alive.”

The orderly had to pull me from my mother. I was clinging so hard to the bedroll. Through the commotion, I saw a tear slip down her cheek as they removed the ventilator from her throat. I witnessed her last breath then I dissolved into aching grief.

The room became pitch black. I felt punched in the gut with an iron fist. Sweat was wicked against my hands as I pressed them tightly together in prayer. From the deepest part of my agony, I cried out, begging anyone to hear me.

“Please, God, I’ll do anything to have my mother back. Anything!”

Through my shrill cries, a booming voice came to me, eclipsing my own.

“Olivia,” it said in my ear. The voice stole every other sound from the room except the pounding of my heart. It seemed like a young man’s, yet it held a captivating power of authority. Silenced by him, I snapped my head up, my chest prickling.

“Y-Yes?” I whispered, my lower lip trembling as I sniffed and wiped my cheeks.

“Would you like to change your mother’s fate? What would you do for a second chance?”

I didn’t have to think twice before desperately saying, “I’ll do whatever you say!” My throat hitched, but even if I hadn’t spoken, I had the feeling this ghostly being already knew what my greatest desire was.

“From this moment onward, don’t forget what you have promised me.” Then, the presence disappeared.

Squeaky brakes abruptly woke me up; the cab was stopped. Flipping my lids open, I held my chest, noting the sheen of sweat on my collarbone. Sitting up straight, I inhaled a few times, realizing I’d just had a bad dream. But it lingered in a way no other nightmare had before.

Rain ominously tapped the windshield, the wipers creaking with every swipe. Rubbing my sweaty palms over my jeans, I bounced my knees, hoping everything at home was okay.

A few minutes later, we rolled up. Holding my face in my palms, I bit my lower lip, saying a prayer quietly. I could hear the droplets hitting the roof. There was looming dread in the pit of my stomach.

“Here we are,” the cabbie said. Nodding, I opened the door, but before I left, I turned to him.

“Please, don’t go yet,” I said. “I have a bad feeling about this.” We locked eyes, and he nodded.

As the wind blew my hair around my face, I had the sense of someone watching me. The trees lifted as though they were waving me away. Leaves swirled like ballet dancers, making me dizzy. Rain pinged off my bare skin, soaking into my clothes as the sky darkened.

Staring upward, I half expected to hear the voice. That is just a nightmare, I told myself. Then I lifted my hand.

Knocking on the mahogany door, my skin felt thin. Someone whipped the door open. The smell of a baked pumpkin pie wafted to my nostrils. Judging by their faces, it wasn’t a welcome home present, though.

There was Amanda, her curly dark blonde hair framing her face, with shimmering crystal blue eyes piercing me. Not far behind was Ava, her daughter. She looked more like my father than Amanda, with her cleft chin and hazel irises. She’d grown during my three-year absence.

Not that it mattered.

Amanda glared at me, with Ava following her lead.

“You’re about to tell me to leave, aren’t you?” I asked, crossing my arms. It was just as I’d seen before. Though they both narrowed and wrinkled their noses in question, those expressions melted into scowls.

“Of course we are,” Amanda said, waving me away.

“You’re not welcome here,” Ava echoed.

“You owe me an explanation,” I said, feeling anger burning in my stomach.

“Your mother never atoned for her mistake of injuring me,” Amanda said, holding her shoulder. I bit my lower lip, hoping to keep my mouth shut until I formulated the words.

“I took the blame for Mom, and I served my time. What more do you need?” I asked, flipping my hand out. When I stared at my fingers, they appeared wavy, and then my eyes flicked to Amanda and Ava’s faces.

Briefly, they flashed like they were reflected in a broken mirror, oddly refracted and segmented. I gasped in remembrance, feeling sweat trickle down my lower back. Clearing my dry throat, I wanted to speak, but nothing came. All I heard was the pounding of my heart.

Ava and Amanda laughed at me like a pair of hyenas. My stomach knotted, and the world went sideways. My nightmare had come true! I steadied myself on the house, which only made them chortle harder. A sinking feeling surrounded me like a poltergeist.

“Where’s Mom?” I finally asked, grasping the railing for support.

“She’s in the hospital,” Amanda said. I held my temples briefly and then looked at them.

“What happened?” I asked. Pursing my lips was the only way to keep them from trembling.

“She tried to kill herself,” Ava said, rolling her eyes in annoyance.

My heart cracked, but I refused to show it. I linked my sweating palms behind my back.

“Why?” I asked. The rain had picked up as though the sky were crying for my mother.

“Because she missed you. It was too much on her,” Amanda said. Guilt clutched my heart in its frozen fingers, but I remained cool.

“But she’s alive, right?” My voice was calculated.

“Yes, the maids found her in time to save her life, but when she woke up, she was brain-dead. She’s unable to function on her own.”

The malice in Amanda’s voice reflected sick pleasure. I could see it in her smug celebration, her icy-blue eyes glittering, trying to gauge my pain. She wanted to feed off it, but I wouldn’t allow her to.

Stepping from the porch, I had a lump in my throat, but I wouldn’t let them see me upset. My feet felt wobbly as I hailed the cab, but I needed to face reality. Once I was inside, I said, “Please take me to the hospital.”

After we arrived, I rushed to the front desk, my hair a mess from the earlier wind and rain. I removed my elastic and then pulled it into a ponytail again.

“Where is Sophie Lanchester’s room?” I asked. The admin directed me, and I headed toward the elevator, pressing the up button.

I went to floor three and found my mother in a terrible state, exactly like the nightmare. She was hooked up to tubes and electric leads, with the staff scurrying around her. I chewed on my lip, and then, with a shaky breath, I dared to breach.

“Sophie isn’t doing well,” one nurse said to another. The other physician’s assistant raced over, and then the doctor saw me. I drew my lips down as he approached.

“Only family members are allowed here. Who are you?” he asked me. He didn’t recognize me, but I knew his face. My pulse felt thready as I pulled my sleeves over my palms.

“Doctor Asclepius, I’m Olivia Lanchester, Sophie’s daughter. What’s going on?” I tapped my foot anxiously.

“She’s taken a turn for the worse,” he said, steepling his hands on his mouth. “Unfortunately, we can’t help.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, widening my eyes and flipping my palms out.

“We need a prompt payment for your mother’s medical bills. We can’t keep giving her the proper care without it.”

“I-I don’t have any money,” I said, a piercing ache of helplessness overtaking me. Shame pegged my feet to the ground, rendering me motionless. My throat felt tight.

Staring at them racing around my mother with the machines beeping made me feel like I was going to lose it. What was I going to do? If this was like the dream, she was going to die before my eyes. Please don’t let it come true!

Suddenly, everything in the room paused, becoming a grayscale gradient before me. Nobody moved; time stopped. Staring at their frozen bodies, my gaze was glued to my mother’s.

“Do you want to have that second chance, after all?” the young man asked. It was the same voice I’d heard before.

“Yes! I’m willing to do anything to help her.” Though my mouth was dry, I spoke as clearly as I could, making sure there was no ambiguity.

Just as the words left my mouth, a small, squarely shaped plastic object fell out of my pocket. Crouching down, I plucked it from the floor and saw the sixteen-digit print of a navy-blue credit card.