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the night.  Tonight, however, there was an addition to my dream. 
    Her.
    Evangeline. 
    Her name is soft on my tongue and I say it aloud, quietly in the darkness of my suite. Shadows fall around me, against my walls and my bed, but that is fine. I enjoy it that way.  I belong in them.  I have known that since I was small and as long as I am awake, I feel comfortable there.
    I reach for a glass on my bed stand and take a big gulp of water, allowing the sleep to fade away so that I can think more clearly.
    I am intrigued by this new woman, by her open and curious face, by her interesting eyes, by her beauty.
    I want her.  This dream was a testament to that.  And I haven’t wanted anything for a very long time. 
    The knowledge is startling. 
    I can’t fool myself into thinking that her beauty does not play a part in my fascination.  Of course it does.  She is breathtaking.  But it isn’t just that. She’s smart and confident in a way that I haven’t quite seen before.  She’s a very capable person.  Except when she’s dealing with a spider.
    I smile at the memory and realize that I’m once again gripping my pillow.  I release it, tossing it to the other side of the bed.  I flex my fingers and as I do I see that there is blood beneath my fingernails. 
    I cringe, the familiar horror lodged in my chest, surrounding my heart.  I numbly rise from bed and walk quietly into my bathroom, scrubbing my hands as vigorously as I can.  I’m surprised I don’t take the skin from the bone, but it remains firmly attached to my hand.  It wouldn’t matter to me either way at this point.
    I stare into the mirror and like always, I don’t like what I see.  I saw my reflection in Evangeline’s horrified stare.  She saw me for what I am.  I don’t give a fuck if it was a dream.  She can see through me. 
    I look away and dry my hands, then slide down the tiled wall until I am resting against the cool stone.  I lay my head back and close my eyes.  I’m very weary.  Not tired, but weary.  And there is a difference.
    But as I sit with my eyes closed, her face passes through my mind yet again.  Her smile flashes in my memory and I suddenly find myself wanting to meet with her again, even though I shouldn’t. 
    I know where she lives.  I could swing by unannounced and bring her a bottle of wine as a welcome to Malta gift.  I could check to see if she has had any more uninvited spider guests.  I could… do nothing.
    I can’t.
    I can’t endanger her in such a way.
    And suddenly, I feel my reality crushing upon me in a way that I haven’t felt in years.  I have long since reconciled myself with my life.  But now, tonight, it seems too great a burden to bear. 
    And try as I might not to think of her, I fall asleep sprawled on the bathroom floor thinking of her gray-green eyes. 
     

 
    Chapter Five
     
     
     
     
    Eva
    I decide to take the bus into town.  I’m not sure why, but I know that if I don’t expose myself to people from the very beginning, I might be inclined to become a hermit in my little shore-side cottage. And the entire reason I am here is to finish up my research, an endeavor that will involve people.
    On the trip to town, I sit next to an older woman and as we chat, I compile my list of her traits in my head.  Beaten down by life, tired, negative. 
    I decide that I don’t like her energy.  She’s very jaded and worn-out, and I know that nothing in this life will make her happy.  I have already decided that I won’t be following up with her by the time she gets off at the next stop.  By this time, I also realize that I don’t much like the bus.  There are babies crying, people coughing and an overwhelming stench of body odor.  I fight the urge to pull my shirt up over my nose.
    I feel like a witch, but I haven’t eaten anything for breakfast and the smell is threatening to turn my stomach.  I’m headed to the market to buy supplies for my kitchen, but I’m going to have