A laugh like grinding bones. “Goddesses? We are the Graiae. Born old. Daughters of the sea. We share one eye and one tooth because we trust no one enough to have our own.”
At the lake’s bottom was a door no larger than a rabbit hole. Alice knelt.
The fall this time was short and soft. She landed on her neighbor’s rug, the borrowed book still clutched in her hand. Outside, rain tapped the window. Everything was ordinary.
