"The hills changed."

"What?"

"The hills changed." The smaller, blonde woman pointed out the window of the house while the dark-haired woman whipped another sheet off a chair. "It's just odd."

"That you're noticing hills changing?"

"That everyone always talks about trees or leaves changing when they come back to a place or how people change but they never talk about how the hills changed."

"Changed how Anna?"

Anna shrugged, "They just look smaller."

"Or maybe you got bigger."

Anna snorted, "I haven't grown since I was in secondary school, Mary. I know you remember when I topped off at just over five foot because you couldn't stop nagging me about it when you towered over me."

"No shame in that." Mary blew out, "This place's not been used in forever so you might have to battle some spiders out of the corners but I think it should do."

"It'll be fine." Anna paced around the room and only turned when she noted the silence. Mary stood with her hands on her hips, the scrunch to her face screaming that she used all her energy to stop herself saying whatever begging to break from the tip of her tongue. Anna sighed, "What?"

"I'm just confused as to why you're here."

"Aren't I allowed to visit?"

"I never you weren't." Mary waved a hand at the room, "I just find it odd that you wanted back in your old house, that you showed up without warning in the middle of the night, that you're here without your husband..."

"John's busy."

"Does he even know you're here?" Anna did not answer and Mary let out a breath. "I just think there's too much you're not telling me and I want to know how I can help. Something got you deep in the soul and I can't fix it but I want to try and make it better."

"You already are." Anna patted the sofa and dissolved to coughing as the dust billowed out of it.

They fell into laughter and Mary pulled Anna's shoulder. "Why don't you stay in our spare room tonight and then we'll fix this up between us tomorrow?"

"When you say that do you mean you'll actually do manual labor?"

"I mean Matthew'll do the labor and I'll provide refreshments." Mary offered Anna her hand, "Come on. You'll feel better if you're not breathing this in all night."

"Probably." Anna agreed, "Thank you Mary, for doing this."

"I still think there's something going on."

"It's just a holiday, Mary."

"No one opens up their family's house for a holiday."

"Extended leave of absence."

Mary snorted, "I guess when you run your own company you can take as many of those as you want."

"I don't run it."

"You and John run it." Mary pulled the door closed and handed Anna the key. "Yours, for as long as you need it."

"Thank you."

"Don't mention it unless," Mary held up a finger, "You plan on telling me what the hell is going on."

"Not tonight Mary." Anna led the way to the car. "Definitely not tonight."

The road was slick. People joked about rainy seasons in the land of perpetual gray but it had rained for a week straight. The Ouse threatened to burst its banks twice already and then finally broke a dam that morning.

They should not have been driving. She knew that. The girl in the seat next to her knew that. They were wet, trembling, and terrified but they had to. They had to drive.

They had to get away.

With fingers like claws over the steering wheel, Anna guided the car through the deluge. The wipers worked at top speed but the old car only had speeds that were less-than-efficient for everything. The wipers, like the tires and the paint, were old and worn. Not the car one wanted to trust in a veritable monsoon.

Everything about the car was bald. When they took turns Anna locked her jaw and prayed they could manage the lack of friction and skid just enough to catch road. When the rain picked up she tried to crank the wipers up another setting but only heard the shudder-inducing squelch of the cracked rubber skating the window for a brief instant of clarity. Then all was downpour again.

Anna wiped at the trickle down the side of her head, blinking in an attempt to keep herself focused.

"Anna, you're bleeding."

"It's nothing." Anna shook it off. "It's nothing Gwen. I'm fine."

"You're not fine."

"I will be once we're far away from there." Anna put her foot down on the accelerator and navigated forward. "We're getting away."

"Anna-" Gwen's voice caught and Anna wrenched the wheel to avoid the car skidding toward them, only visible by the headlights.

They hydroplaned and Anna's breath caught in her chest. Everything moved as if in slow motion and she risked a look over at Gwen. Then their car hit the barrier.

Anna gasped herself awake, clutching the blanket draped over her before sitting up. The twitter of the birds out her window had her blinking in the half-light of dawn. She pulled a jumper from her bag, open on the chair beside the bed, and tugged it over her head before yanking her hair back from her face.

Her feet padded over the rug and she hissed when she hit the cold wood of the floor. Grimacing, she hopped toward her trainers and shoved her feet into them before pushing the French doors open. The chill of the morning nipped at her as she walked out onto the grass of the backfield.

There, on the little rise some dared call a hill, loomed the tree. She never bothered to learn the species but it never mattered to her. Anna stopped, holding her arms over her chest while her breath fogged in the air, and she craned her head back to look at it.

It was the same tree. The white tree. The one she always saw.

Anna hung her head, "You're not real."

With a sigh she turned back toward the house but stopped when she saw two girls running toward her. One, with flying blonde hair and an infectious giggle, stayed just out of reach of the older girl. The one with her ginger hair restrained enough to allow her to move with ease.

They chased one another around Anna, oblivious to her presence, and circled the tree. Anna turned to watch them, fingers clinging to her jumper as her eyes edged with tears. She risked a hand over her mouth as the ginger-headed girl finally caught the little blonde one, holding her high before leaving a trail of kisses over her.

"Caught you." She teased, tickling at her. "Another win for Gwen."

"When will I win?"

"When you're older Emmy." Gwen set Emmy on the ground, "You'll have long legs like me and then you can run all day."

"But I'll never be older." Emmy turned toward Anna, "I'll be this age forever."

Anna shot up in the bed, breathing hard, and let her eyes track a path around the room. There were no French doors and no backfield. Only the window that looked down on the gravel drive in front of the house and the rest of the estate.

Trying to ease her breathing, Anna got out of the bed and hissed at the cold floor. She wandered into the bathroom to the side and splashed water on her face. When she caught sight of herself in the mirror all she could do was hang her head.

"They're not real." She sighed, "They're both dead Anna."