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fear of death. In his world, a girlfriend wasn’t supposed to let her ex-boyfriend massage her neck knowing full well the forbidden desire his touch would arouse.
    Lumikki watched the bustle of Sampsa’s family and suddenly felt chillingly alone. Her fear, her dark places, her anger that ran as red as blood, the black shadows of her forest, her murky waters and deep undercurrents. They would never be these people’s life. These happy, sunny, joking, playful, loud, almost irritatingly voluble, and perfectly lovely people’s life.
    “Now my hands are sticky!” Saara said, holding up red palms.
    In the end, she’d only managed to eat three pancakes.
    “Well, you did eat half a gallon of strawberry jam on your pancakes. And you ate with your hands.”
    Sampsa leaned over to wipe his sister’s hands with a napkin.
    Sticky strawberry jam. Red. Sticky. Warm. Blood.
    Images flashed through Lumikki’s head so fast she couldn’t catch hold of them. In her mind, she saw jam dripping onto the floor. She saw a pool of blood that grew and grew. She shook her head a little. Where were these images coming from?
    “Can I go play now?” Saara asked impatiently.
    “Yes,” her mother replied.
    “Lumikki is going to come play princesses with me,” Saara declared, grabbing Lumikki’s hand with her own still slightly sticky one.
    Lumikki flinched at the touch. A bloody hand. A hand that didn’t move even when she nudged it. A slowly cooling hand.
    “Lumikki might still want to eat. Ask nicely,” Sampsa’s father said.
    “Sure, I’ll come,” Lumikki said quickly.
    She wanted to get her mind away from the strange associations that kept flashing and disappearing like lightning strikes.
    Saara put a frilly lace hat on Lumikki’s head before pulling a pink dress over her own clothes and waving her magic wand.
    “This is a magic wand and a sword at the same time,” she explained proudly, showing off the sparkling stick.
    “That’s handy. If monsters come, you can cast a spell on them and make them nice, or fight them off,” Lumikki said.
    The lace hat itched on her head, but she let it be. She could stand a little discomfort during the game.
    “Monsters are my friends. But if the evil prince comes, I’ll chop off his head. And then I’ll turn him into a cute little frog.”
    Lumikki smiled. Apparently, this family had turned the traditional fairy-tale roles on their heads several times over. Saara started dancing wildly in her pink princess dress. Little Briar Rose.
    The last letter flashed into Lumikki’s mind and she tried to push it back. But it wouldn’t go. Its words barged back to the forefront, hitting her like waves rolling against the shore one after another. Ever higher, breaking white.
    Briar Rose. Rose.
    Lumikki had to sit down on the floor because her legs would have given way. This wasn’t a dream or a fumbling fantasy. This was real. This was a memory.
    Rose. Rosa.
    Her sister’s name had been Rosa.

MONDAY, DECEMBER 11

Lumikki pressed herself flat against the cold stone wall of the tower room. She stayed perfectly silent and still. First, she became only a shadow, then part of the wall as she melted into it. Lumikki became hard. Her legs and arms froze. Her heart became a rock. Her breath slowed to nothing. She did not exist.
    Lumikki knew that the door of the tower room would open, that she would only have a few seconds. She would have to strike instantly. In her hand, she squeezed the silver comb, stroking its sharp teeth with a finger. If she pressed her fingertip against a tooth, it would sink into her skin and make great drops of blood well up. The winding, beautiful ornamental embossing of the comb felt comforting and safe against her hand. It formed an image of intertwining roses.
    Briar Rose. Who pricked her finger on a spinning wheel and slept for a century. Rosa, who slept the eternal sleep. Lumikki’s sister. No, she couldn’t think about that now.
    She had to concentrate on when the door