[ she watches, dark-eyed, while he claims her bottle and keeps it for himself. it’s not that she needs the liquid courage—it’s just that it’s easier to tell these sorts of secrets with a bit of whiskey clinging to the back of your throat.

but she might as well finish what she started. ]

I was somewhere else. Before I was here. Somewhere—similar, but far from identical. Like here, there were people from other worlds. From our world. From worlds that seemed like our world but couldn’t possibly be.

[ and here’s the kicker. ]

It was called Wonderland.