The tablets help her sleep but do nothing for the nightmares. Time and therapy will ease those, the counsellor says.
Her new bedtime routine never varies: swallow the tablet, verify that the doors are locked and the bathroom light is on. Check under her pillow. Still there.
She jolts awake in the wee hours, flailing against clods of wet earth. Not real! Nevertheless, she pulls the handkerchief from under her pillow and scrubs her face until she feels clean again. It's foolish to depend on a scrap of cloth. Once again she vows, Tomorrow. I'll return this to James tomorrow.