The Mirror (The Lost Bride Trilogy #2)

She had flowers in her long blond hair, flowers in her hand, and a gold ring, two hearts entwined, on the third finger of her left hand.

Slowly, sweetly, they kissed under blue skies, in a field of wildflowers. They laughed into each other’s eyes, like two children with a secret.

“Love you forever, Clover.”

“Love you forever, Charlie, and one day more.”

There was music. Dusty Springfield sang “I Only Want to Be with You.”

The girl’s white dress billowed as she danced barefoot in the meadow.

In sleep, Sonya smiled.

In the morning, Sonya let Yoda and Pye out, fed them their breakfast, and freshened their water bowls. She had her first cup of coffee looking out at the woods. And was rewarded with a glimpse of a doe.

When she went downstairs to work out, it surprised her the cat followed. Thinking of Cleo’s comment about her arms, Sonya selected free weights.

While she curled, lifted, pressed, the servants’ bell rang. The cat walked toward the sound of it, then arched her back and hissed.

“I feel the same way.” Stretched out on the mat for chest presses, Sonya gave a hiss of her own. “And that’s all she gets from us. Hisses.”

After she finished, showered, dressed for the day, she tied back her still-wet hair. Downstairs, she made another cup of coffee and took it upstairs to Cleo.

Her friend sprawled over the bed with her mountain of pillows.

Sitting on the side of the bed, Sonya thought of their college days when Cleo had an early-for-Cleo class. And did now what she’d often done then.

She waved a hand over the coffee to send the scent closer, and said, “Cleo.”

Cleo’s tawny eyes blinked open.

“Is it morning? Is that coffee?”

“Earlier than your usual, but morning. And coffee to ease the pain.”

Cleo pushed herself to sitting, and as the cat leaped onto the bed, took the coffee in both hands. “Why are you bringing me coffee in bed earlier than my usual?”

“Did you hear the clock last night?”

“Um.” Cleo sipped coffee, closed her eyes. “No, at least I don’t think so. I just—” Her eyes popped open, and her hand shot out to grip Sonya’s. “Oh God, Sonya, did you walk? And I wasn’t there with you. I slept through it. I—”

“Not like that. Or I don’t think like that. I don’t remember hearing the clock either, or the piano, and I don’t think, I just don’t, that I left my room. I think the mirror came to me, and I went through it. I went through it, Cleo, and back to when Clover had my father and Collin. Collin first—I don’t know why I know that, I just do.”

To clear her head, Cleo took a deep gulp of coffee. “You saw your dad being born?”

“I saw it all. Let me tell you from the beginning.”

She related the dream that wasn’t a dream, careful to include every detail.

“Oh, Sonya.” Setting the coffee aside, Cleo wrapped around her. “I’m sorry, so sorry.”

“I came out of it sitting on the floor by my bed. Cleo, I don’t think I left the room. My bedroom, and the room where it all happened.”

“Maybe that’s why. It was the ballroom for Lisbeth, so that’s where you went. You’ve seen the others.”

“I’m not sure where I went. The first couple of times, I thought I was dreaming. Just dreaming. I think, after Marianne Poole, the third bride, I started accepting it was more.”

“Accepting could be why you’ve been more aware.”