The thunder rattled the windows and woke her up. There he was standing at the foot of her bed again. The unreadable expression in his large dark eyes stirred her blood. His regal black clothes and perfect features were out of place in her messy bedroom, but it was the giant black feathered wings that were a certain sign he did not belong to this world. The real world. 

Cassie closed her eyes and shook her head. This was the third day in a row she’d found him there, at the foot of her queen sized bed with the low footboard. Behind closed eyes she listened to the rain outside and told herself to wake-up, to really wake-up. 

  She opened her left eye, then her right. The pale yellow accent wall of her bedroom with the messy oak dresser and the white bathroom door were clearly visible. He was gone, again. She exhaled. Her eyes drifted to the phone carelessly placed on top of a pile of t-shirts on top of her nightstand next to her bed, the smaller sibling to her dresser. She reached for it. Maybe it was time to call the doc. But as soon as she pulled it closer she realized she’d forgotten to charge it again. Crap. 

  Cassie laid her head back on her pile of pillows and stared at the off-white ceiling. It was probably just the storm that was causing these weird dreams. These weird dreams she was seeing even when she was awake. “But, like... barely awake... which is really still asleep, so it's fine. It’s not that serious,” she told herself.  

Nodding to herself she pushed up until she was seated. Time to get up. She threw her deep blue comforter aside and with a deep breath in she reached forward to grab her left thigh. She pulled it until it bent in front of her as she exhaled through gritted teeth. Her hands worked quickly through rubbing down her left leg and then repeated it all again with her right leg to work out some of the stiffness. Then she worked through what she called her “bed yoga.” The set of stretches she did every morning to get her lower body warmed up enough to stand up. After she finished she laid back on her pillow pile to take a deep breath before slowly swinging her legs out of bed one at a time. Each with a deep breath to control the pain, which was decreasing each day. The feeling of her bare feet on the cold wood floor gave her a delightful shock. Though it was still slow, she savored the freedom of moving on her own. Just nineteen and Cassie often moved like an eighty year old. But...she moved, and that was the accomplishment she held onto. The familiar dull ache all over her body would lessen in the shower, so she eased herself out of bed and shuffled slowly to the bathroom just across from her bed. 

  On the way, she passed the wheelchair. It was buried under clothes at the moment, but the wheels caught the weak sunlight streaming in through the storm clouds from the gap in the curtains on the other side of her room. Cassie stopped to confront it with a glare, as if to say, “not today,” before turning back to the bathroom door. Even with the odd storm the temperature would still probably get into the seventies in her little California town, which would help her muscles ache less than if it were colder. 

Out of habit she stopped to study herself in the bathroom mirror while she braced herself against the white marble countertop. A mess of tangled dirty blonde hair fell out of her loose ponytail. Her skin was pale, too pale. The dark circles under her eyes were worse; she poked at them. At least they weren’t as puffy since she switched to over the counter pain meds a few days ago. She shrugged and poked at her arms. She was skinny, too skinny. No muscle tone. Still, she faced her less than perfect reflection and said her new mantra, “Cassandra Winters, nineteen is going to be a good year. You can do this.” 

She had to believe that. She walked the two steps behind her to lean on the gray stone tile of the shower so she could turn it on. Immediately she turned it off and on again, two more times.

While she waited for the water to heat up she went back to the counter to open her various pill bottles. She lined up her doses of pain, anti-depressant, anti-anxiety, antacid, and allergy pills so that they were grouped in twos but also in a straight line. Then she filled in the empty spots with the vitamins for this, that, and the other. She glanced at herself one more time and her heart jumped. For a split second she thought her hair was ocean foam white and her skin a pale shimmering blue. Startled, she leaned forward to wipe away the gathering steam with her hand only to find her normal reflection staring back at her. Cassie rolled her shoulders and shook her head then turned back to the shower to gingerly step under the hot spray. One hand braced on the far wall, she waited until she felt her muscles loosen and the pain ease away. Then her mind drifted while her body washed... 

She didn’t dream much usually, not that she remembered. It never bothered her. She actually preferred it, because when she did dream it was… what had the doctor called it? Vivid? No. “Elaborate” was the word he’d used. Well, three days ago, the first night of the storm, she had one of those “elaborate” dreams. It started in a large throne room that was inside and outside at the same time, which only made sense in the dream. A handsome man with dark granite-like skin and strong gargoyle wings sat on a large stone throne that had no back. His feet rested on a small carpet of thick green grass that sat on a sparkling marble floor. His hands were cupped in front of his chest and floating above them was a golden eagle feather. Another one of those weird dream things. To his right stood a tall, impossibly pale woman with ink black markings that reached up one side of her neck. She had short flame red hair and large black feathered wings that protruded from her well-tailored golden coat. To the left of them was the handsome man who kept showing up in her room. He had short black hair, deep charcoal eyes, and obsidian wings. 

The man on the throne started talking and in front of him appeared a semi-circle of beings. People wasn’t the right word. They were creatures. Mythical beings that Cassie could only think seemed business-like in the way they stood there. There were centaurs and little gnomes, willowy faery people and big ape-like creatures. Two snowy tigers weaved through the crowd and settled at the foot of the throne. The place was so familiar, but new and unknown all at the same time, as only dreams can be.

The man with granite skin spoke. His voice commanded the space with a plea, “We must find her. At all costs, we must find her.”

There was sorrow in his eyes, and perhaps, a bit of shame. The faery woman with black wings placed a hand on his shoulder. There was something about them. Cassie couldn't quite put her finger on it. She wanted to get closer, to look at their eyes, but she couldn't move from her vantage point. 

  The charcoal eyes of the handsome winged man darted from face to face. Then his stare pierced through the audience and Cassie could feel the connection of his eyes on hers. He spoke, “I will find her, whatever it takes.” 

The passion behind it, the need that radiated from him pulsed through Cassie. She pointed to herself as if to say, "Me? Right here?" No words came out, but she so badly wanted him to know where she was. To come and find her.  

  That was it. The dream ended there. Each morning since, Cassie woke to find the winged dream man with charcoal eyes staring at her. But the way he stared was as if she was a picture that he desperately wanted to hold. Like he didn’t know she could see him too. She dried her hair, took her row of pills, and considered again that it might be time to call the doctor. Maybe it was a reaction between the new anti-anxiety meds and her other prescriptions. Then again, maybe it was just that she was dreaming again... and the damn storm. She didn’t have time to deal with the consequences of a call to her doctor anyway. Too much to do today. 

  Tired, she sat on her bed to pull on her gray yoga pants and teal t-shirt. She caught sight of the delicately crafted paper flower she’d spent a week perfecting. Its petals, meticulously folded and cut from sheet music, sat atop a stem made from multiple strands of carefully beaded jewelry wire twisted together. The wires diverged to create leaves before joining again to support the flower. It was her most elaborate creation yet. It sat nestled in tissue paper on her dresser. Today was a day to celebrate, so she would worry about the doctor later. Besides she hadn't been all that awake any of the mornings; it was obviously just a dream. A recurring dream.  

 There was a quick rap at the door. Her brother’s voice came from the other side, “Sis, breakfast is ready, but Mom won’t let me eat until you get here.” 

“Okay, just give me a minute. I’m coming.”

“Do you need help?” 

Cassie looked over to the wheelchair. “No. I got it.” 

Cassie took a deep breath, put a smile on her face, and gathered the paper flower from her dresser. Careful to cradle it in the tissue in one hand she headed for the door. She opened and closed her door three times then made her way into the kitchen. She stopped to lean on the wall of the pantry at the entrance of the roomy kitchen that glowed with its warm lights and soft yellow paint, despite the cloudy skies outside. Cassie sang out, “Happy Adoption day!” 

Her mom Namuula, or Namu for short, stood behind the unusually clean white marble island at the stove. A rare spot for her at breakfast time, which usually consisted of high protein breakfast smoothies. She was a tall woman with deep cocoa-colored skin, high cheekbones, and intense eyes. Her arms flexed beneath the cream colored t-shirt, chiseled from years of teaching martial arts and yoga.  Her head was shaved and beautifully shaped. When Cassie first met Namuula she’d thought of her as a fierce royal warrior sent to save her. Of course, Cassie was eleven at the time. 

  Namu’s son, Kael, was already at his place in the center of  the L-shaped bench seat of the honey oak kitchen table, that stretched below the window on the far wall. One side of the table still stood empty and accessible for the wheelchair hidden in Cassie’s room. The matching kitchen chairs tucked against the wall instead. Kael was already dressed for the day in dark wash jeans and a green long sleeve t-shirt. He had the same deep cocoa skin and dark eyes as his mom, but they were always more playful than intense. He was in the process of growing out his natural tight curls. He had been shaving it until someone recently pointed out that he looked just like his mom. Cassie giggled to herself at the memory.  His hair was still pretty short, but her brother was ridiculously handsome however he wore his hair.  It was annoying. 

  Cassie pushed off the wall and walked to the island to present the paper flower to Namu. She smiled and quickly stepped out from behind the island leaving the bacon sizzling on the gas burner. Her long legs covered the distance in just a few steps. 

She took the flower and said, “Another beautiful addition to my bouquet.” Namu studied the flower, “Wow, Cassie. You really outdid yourself this time.”  She walked to the built in pale yellow sideboard next to the kitchen table and gently slid the new flower into a simple glass vase with the other seven. The first, Cassie had made a few days after meeting Namu in the aftermath of the big hurricane. She’d used what she could find in the disaster shelter, so it was made with white and brown napkins and a few red candy wrappers. The second flower had been made quickly with construction paper the day Namu told her she was going to be adopted. It had a traditional green stem and purple petals; she’d given it to Namu to replace the “trash flower,” but Namu wanted to keep them both. The flowers got more sophisticated as time went on and became a symbol of their love for each other. The only year she missed making a flower was the year of the accident. She’d missed adoption day that year. 

Cassie gave herself a little shake and thought of what Namu had said to her about the “trash flower” so many years ago when Cassie asked her to throw it away, “ I will never throw this away. This flower shows me that this little girl in front of me is capable of making beauty out of nothing and offering love, even though everything has been taken from her. That is a gift we must both remember.” 

   To Cassie the flowers meant that Namu would always love her, no matter what she had to give. The few memories she had of her other parents were... less flattering.  

 As if reading Cassie’s thoughts, Namu placed a hand on her cheek to bring her back to the moment. She looked Cassie in the eyes and said, “Thank you for my gift.” Cassie smiled at her mom. Namu ushered her to the kitchen table. “Now sit and eat. It is a day for us to celebrate each other while honoring the tragedy that brought us together.” She paused to look at Cassie again, “There is no need for guilt Cassie. It is not what the universe would want.” She kissed the top of her head and walked back toward the stove. 

 Kael broke through the heavy mood, “Mom, can I have some fizzy water?”

Namu rolled her eyes at him and turned to grab a bottle from the refrigerator behind her. 

 “Is there any blackberry left?” He winked at Cassie while Namu was turned. 

  “What?” Namu asked.

  “It’s my favorite,” Kael said.

  With just a little bit of panic Namu said, “No, last time we went shopping we had a whole discussion about it because you said I couldn’t keep it straight. Cassie’s favorite is blackberry and yours is black cherry,” but she set a bottle of blackberry in front of Kael and moved the black cherry to Cassie’s place as she spoke. 

  Cassie slid into her spot on the L-bench and joined in. “Right, except that my favorite is black cherry and Kael’s is blackberry.” While Namu’s back was turned she switched the bottles back. 

Namu’s eyes narrowed. “Peas in a pod you two.” The two broke out into laughter while Namu set glasses in front of them, still muttering. 

  Kael and Cassie had been playing the same trick on their mom for years. The truth was they both liked black cherry and blackberry and their favorite was whatever made the moment funnier. Cassie switched the bottles back and forth two more times while Kael waited patiently. When Cassie started to close her soda so she could open it back up, she paused and tried to force herself to stop. Kael rested a hand on hers and whispered gently, "It's okay Cass. It’s just soda. You can do it." 

  She gave him the smile she knew he expected. He was right of course, not everything had to be done in threes. It was okay she told herself; no one would be hurt by soda. 

 While she poured her fizzy water into the glass she thought about the early days of running around with Kael. To Cassie he hadn't changed since she was eleven. 

   When she first met him, he was so big and strong he intimidated her. She didn’t know if she could trust him, but then again she didn’t trust anyone at that point. He was only three years older than her which made him 14 back then. But he was endlessly patient and worked so hard to earn her trust. When she first moved in with them to this house in California he set up sleeping bags and a pillow fort in the living room.  They spent the first few weeks camped out there together until Cassie was confident enough to sleep in a room by herself. 

  Up until the accident, their rooms had been right next to each other. If Cassie woke up scared in the middle of the night she'd knock on the wall and Kael would always knock back three times to let her know he was there. He’d say the knocks stood for, "Don't be afraid." The doctor once pointed out that her ritual of three was probably rooted in that memory. Cassie didn't think so, but she learned not to argue with the doctors. 

 Lightning flashed outside the kitchen window so brightly it lit up the kitchen and with it the faery man appeared. She jerked back so quickly it made her spill her drink. The vision lingered near the pantry tilting his head, as if he were surprised she could see him, he took a small step toward her before fading away. Heart racing, she slid down the bend away from the mess to avoid being soaked. "Okay, maybe not a dream." She mumbled to herself.

  Kael and Namu both froze for a moment. Their bodies were tense. Cassie knew what they were thinking. She could read it all over their anxious faces. They were bracing for a panic attack. They were ready for her to be broken again. But she wouldn’t do that, not today.