A mirror. Shattered glass. Blood on the floor. Dripping tears. A puff of smoke. Everything's black. A bright light. A glimpse of a boy.

Elizabeth Vallain awoke with a start. She heard screaming echoing into her room from the hall. Blood-curdling screams. She hurriedly turned on her bedside lamp and rushed out of the room. She ran down the hall and flew through the cracked door of her Goddaughter, Seraphine Sallows', room.

"Sera, Sera. It's all right. Shush, shush. Seraphine, it's me. It's me. It's okay." Elizabeth hushed and comforted the struggling girl. She bent over, wrapping her arms around Seraphine's small, shaking, body. She was gasping for air; tears running down her face and neck, spilling over onto her tangled, white and periwinkle bed sheets. After a few moments, she was able to take a shaky breath, and sit up.

"Are you alright?" Eliza asked, concern filling her sparkling eyes.

"For the moment. I had another dream." The poor girl replied, her eyes starting to swell and become splotchy.

"A nightmare?"

"No, these-these are different than my nightmares. It's like I'm-like I'm looking into someone else's nightmares." She was starting to breathe steadier as she talked.

"How do you know they're someone else's?" Elizabeth said, pondering over the words the girl spoke.

"They just don't feel.... right in my head. As if they don't fit. Like if you were to try and fit a small pair of shoes, on big feet." She stated looking deep in thought.

Elizabeth didn't know what to say to this. She decided on simply telling Seraphine to try and go back to sleep and that she would be down the hall if the girl needed anything. As Eliza Vallain padded through the house, most awake she had been in weeks, she decided to look for something that she had hidden away many years ago. Once reaching her room, she made a beeline for her closet and started digging through a decade of old clothing and containers. She sat there for a good 15 minutes before she found what she was so rapidly seeking. Elizabeth sat back on her heels as she tugged an old, shabby, pink and cream hat box from the pile. She pulled herself to her feet and slowly tip-toed down the hall to Seraphine's room. She peeked inside and was relieved to see that her goddaughter was sleeping as soundly as she could these days. Leaving the door cracked as she made her way back through the hall, she started down the stairs. Elizabeth collapsed on the sofa in the sitting room, setting the box on her lap. It was heavy and as she removed the top, years of mildew and dust shot into her nose. She sneezed as she waved away the clouds.

Elizabeth Victoria Vallain had not been able to cry since the day Seraphine was brought to her. However, as she looked through the old pictures and letters, she started to tear up. It was when she found a splotchy, tear-stained, yellowing, note did her tears finally fall.