I couldn't see her face, but I heard faint whispers. "Find me. Find me," she whispered. An image kept flashing in my mind, blurry yet resembling a garden.
Suddenly, my eyes shot open, and my face felt wet. Tears!
Startled, I leaped out of bed, baffled by why that dream made me cry.
After a quick breakfast, I rushed to tell Hilda about it. She was busy mixing something on the table, her hands gracefully moving through bottles.
I talked while watching her expertly pour the bottle contents into her mixture. It was mesmerizing.
When she finished, she smiled and turned to me. "Hmmm. This dream of yours is rather intriguing. It might be a message of some kind."
"Really?" I asked.
"The person in your dreams might be trying to tell you something, either good or bad."
Confused, I asked, "What do you mean?"
"You'll need to find that garden from your dream. That's where the answers are."
"How do I even start?" Overwhelmed and frustrated, I felt so alone.
Hilda walked over and patted my back. "You're not alone, dear."
I smiled gratefully. "How's Dylan?"
"Mr. Aithne is still the same. We can only hope for a miracle."
I sighed, realizing my problems were piling up. I knew Dylan wasn't the only one at risk if I didn't find answers soon.