Zoe wakes up the next morning and knows instantly that the events of the last night were not a dream. She never remembers her dreams, but she clearly remembers everything that had happened to her, right up until she put down the glass and crawled into bed, dumbstruck.
She had always wondered how crazy people must feel. Now she knows. It is actually quite exhilirating. She can't decide who to tell—the only person who she would ordinarily tell, Robert, is probably not talking to her—but she is so confident that she isn't dreaming, that something truly extraordinarily had happened, that the mundane details of who would believe her seem trivial. She doesn't yet feel confident enough to deal with the glass object, safely hidden under her shirt on her desk. But she at least feels confident enough in her apparent insanity to face the world.
She gets dressed and skips down the stairs. Halfway down she remembers that her bike is no more. She'd have to catch the bus to school.
Zoe
Oh well.
She could handle it.
Downstairs, her mother is cooking breakfast. Upon further examination, she is cooking breakfast for someone sitting in the breakfast nook, drinking coffee and reading the paper. It is her father.
Zoe
Dad?
