Author's Note: Everyone finds out about Laura. Original book is increasingly annoying, so nothing about that book shows up here. It's for the best.

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Laura never showed up for church today. I hope everything's okay. Deanna tried calling her, but received no answer.

Evening came, and still Deanna had heard no word from Laura. Deanna decided to check on her at her fort. "Laura, dear, are you okay?" She called out, knocking on the door. No answer. What if she's too ill to answer? Or was kidnapped? I need to get in there! Since the fort was made out of paper towels and cardboard, this was easily done. As soon as she pushed against the cardboard door it opened with ease. She looked around. There was a single-sized air-mattress in one corner, a large desk covered in paperwork along the other wall, and, right across from Deanna, another door. She opened it and saw a storage closet which could hold nothing important. But… She's not anywhere else… Deanna stepped through the door, and when she did, the room changed. The boxes disappeared and the room stretched out before her. In here was a full-fledged kitchen complete with a coffee maker. Deanna stepped back into the other room, and the illusion of a storage closet appeared again in front of her. She stepped forward again, and the kitchen appeared. Beyond the kitchen was a living room with a new-looking couch that looked perfect for lounging, a TV, and the most hideous mirror Deanna had ever seen. It really didn't seem to fit with the other décor. While everything else in the room was in a minimalist style, this mirror looked as if it could compliment Peter Paul Rubens' The Fall of the Damned in the way the mass of faces that surrounded the mirror writhed in their movements. But the visages of the faces themselves evoked more to her mind Francisco Goya's Saturn Devouring His Son due to the visceral horror she experienced while gazing at them. But, despite her horror, she couldn't turn away. Gaunt faces, bloated faces, shadowy faces, and a face that looked sunburnt despite being made out of bronze all looked like they were staring at her, through her, beckoning her to come closer, closer. Deanna felt as if she were being pulled by the tide as she moved closer to the mirror. The last thing she saw before she hit the mirror was a face that made her feel sick. Not because such a beautiful face had been made grotesque by horns, bared fangs and hate-filled eyes, but because of the familiarity. The face looked like it could belong to Laura Frasier.

Saying, "She hit the mirror," doesn't convey what really happened. She ought to have hit the mirror. For a moment it felt as if she had hit something – but it was the sort of something that felt more like she had just dived sideways into a body of water. But instead of feeling wet, her skin began to feel itchy and dry. It was hot, hotter than being pregnant in the Georgian summer without air conditioning. She screamed in agony as her face and arms blistered. Then she felt hands grab her under her arms and pull her up, up away from the ground. She had no way of knowing how high they flew as the black smoke rising up from below covered her. She tried not breathing it in, and was about to pass out when she and whoever was carrying her finally landed. They were on a cliff overlooking a great fire. Deanna could hear screams on every side of her suffocating her just as much as the smoke had.

Then she heard a voice whisper in her ear, "You're not supposed to be here." Deanna screamed. The voice laughed. "Who's going to hear your scream among the souls of so many damned?" The voice put his hand over her nose and mouth until she lost consciousness.

When she woke up, she was in a hospital bed. The sun was just peaking in through the window. Could it have all been a dream? But, no. Deanna ran her bandaged hand over her face. It was also covered in bandages. What was that place? She heard a loud grunt from her left and saw her husband sleeping fitfully on a recliner chair. There were wrinkles on his face she had never noticed before. I shouldn't wake him. Deanna dropped her head back onto her pillow and tried to recall what happened. I went through a… portal? In a mirror? It was really hot. There was a smoke. And there was a voice… It sounded familiar… It… "TERRY PIPKINS!"

"What!?" Rick yelled. He woke up and locked eyes with Deanna. "You're awake! How are you feeling? Do you need anything? Are you in pain? Oh my God, Deanna! I thought…" Rick burst into tears. It was a sight Deanna had never seen before.

"I'm fine. They must have put me on some really good pain medicine because I don't feel anything! Could you tell me what happened? I don't know how I ended up here."

"Deanna, that's because your nerves were- But Jeanne's working on it. She said you might not be able to feel in the same way, and there will be scarring, but… Damn it! I thought I had lost you!" He took Deanna's bandaged hand and kissed it.

"Jeanne? Jeanne Garvis?" Deanna asked.

"Yeah. Apparently she's some world-renowned doctor who specializes in burn victims. …Deanna, no matter what you look like I want you to know that I love you and I'm going to stick by you. God, when I thought you were dead-!" He choked.

Deanna put her hand back up to her face. She knew she was crying, but she couldn't feel the tears run down her face. "Rick, what happened to me?" Rick squeezed her hand tighter, "Rick, please answer me."

"Laura's fort caught on fire. Cardboard, paper towels, papers… They're all pretty flammable, so it spread quickly. I ran out as fast as I could with the kids. There was a group of us in the parking lot all calling the fire department and looking for our loved ones. My heart stopped when I couldn't find you. I kept yelling out for you. Emily ran back in to look for you. She found you in Laura's fort. We thought… She had been too late…" Rick stopped.

"Rick? What happened next?" Deanna pleaded. "Please, if you don't tell me I'll go mad!"

"I… decided to break my own rule. 'I could time-travel,' I thought, 'I could save Deanna.' I never told you, but I had hidden my time-travel device in your parents' basement after we moved to the abandoned grocery store. I was about to use it when I was hit over the head with a shovel. Terry Pipkin was the one who was standing over me. He took the device, then turned into some sort of shadowy bat. I know that sounds unbelievable, but I can't remember it any other way. I lost consciousness. When I woke up, your parents were standing over me asking what had happened. …They're at their house with the kids, but they're planning on coming with them later this morning. …No one's seen Terry since then. Hey, are you okay?"

"Terry Pipkins." Deanna whispered. The voice she heard she thought had belonged to him, and now this? Did he start the fire? But… That large fire… That wasn't Laura's fort. What happened to the mirror? "Was anything salvaged?"

"Some of the Garvis' stuff, and other people who lived further away from Laura's fort. Also, surprisingly, a small storage room of Laura's didn't look at all like it had been touched. We just looked through the door, but didn't see a point in going through her stuff."

"Huh. Thanks for being Mr. Exposition." Deanna smiled, even though Rick couldn't see her face. "One last question: Had anyone seen Laura yet?"

"No."

"I see." Deanna remembered how the hand she was now sure must have belonged to Terry had smothered her. She shuddered and sent up a prayer for Laura's protection. He took the device. What all that entailed was too much for her to think on right now. She was so exhausted… "I love you, Rick." She said before drifting off to sleep.

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When Deanna awoke again, she was alone. Thinking that probably her family would show up soon, she took this respite away from people to process everything she and Rick talked about. Terry took the time-travel device. Rick can't find it. He would have in moments if any of the tracking technology he keeps with it was working. Is it really gone for good? I know where I saw Terry last, but… She looked down at her arms still covered in bandages from being burned. How would I even be able to search that place without this happening to me again? Deanna's hopes of even visiting home again one day were crashing. It felt like she had learned that all of her friends had died at once. She cried. She grieved for Melanie, for Cathleen – yes, even for Scarlett. She grieved for Laura too and wherever she was now. She prayed that Terry wouldn't hurt her and, if she was in that fire filled place, that somehow the flames wouldn't harm her. Eventually she felt more at peace. Jeanne came in not long after Deanna dried the last tears from her eyes. Her hair was tied up in a loose ponytail and it looked like she needed a good nap. "You look like you're about to fall over. Wanna switch places?" Deanna quipped.

"What?" Jeanne turned to face her. "Oh! You are awake! Thank goodness!"

"You actually sound relieved. I can't believe you actually worried about me. Didn't think you had it in you." Deanna smiled.

"I don't." Jeanne said. Deanna frowned. "There was no need to worry. Your burns weren't that bad."

"Really? I'm literally covered in bandages." Deanna tried to point it out, but she couldn't bend her fingers enough to point at anything.

"Yes. But I usually work with a lot worse. At least none of your skin melted off. And you still have ears." Jeanne stated. Deanna conceded that she had a point. Jeanne gave a small smile, then said, "Deanna, do you know what happened? I don't understand how that fire could have started and spread so easily."

"…You're not going to believe me."

"Really? I promise you that no matter how dumb a thing it is that you did, I will believe that you are that dumb." Jeanne laid her hand over Deanna's in a picture of perfect sincerity.

"Wow! You're almost as mean as Scarlett – almost." Deanna muttered. "But… Since it may involve Laura possibly being in danger... I really ought to tell you. You might know how to withstand…"

"Speak up please." Jeanne interrupted.

Deanna took a breath. "I went to go check on Laura. She hadn't been at church, and she's usually really good at telling someone if she's not planning on being there. I knocked on her door, but didn't hear anything. …You're a mother. Maybe you'd understand a mother's worries. I was afraid she was in there too sick to reply, or worse. I broke open the door. I couldn't find her, but I noticed another door on the other end of the room from where I was. I opened it, and saw a small storage closet." Deanna stopped.

"Yes. I saw that room after the fire. It was still standing. What happened next?" Jeanne urged.

"Did you try going in that room?" Deanna asked. Jeanne shook her head. "…Here comes the unbelievable part: When you step into the room, it's bigger on the inside. It's the truth! I stepped into the closet room that you saw, and suddenly I was in a kitchen. I can tell you don't believe me, but let me finish my story, then go see for yourself. The furniture was minimalistic, except for an ornate, floor length mirror rimmed with the faces of demons. I was sucked into the mirror, and I was surrounded by fire. A flying creature saved me. It spoke and… It had Terry Pipkin's voice. He laughed when I screamed, then I was knocked out. When I came to, I was here. I can see you don't believe me, but go investigate! See for yourself!" Deanna pleaded.

Jeanne folded her arms and scrutinized Deanna. "You're thinking Laura is missing because she was sucked into a mirror? And somehow Terry's involved with the whole thing? Right?"

"Basically."

"…Fine. I'll humor you. I'll check out this mirror in a kitchen in a storage closet. Might as well check before I get you institutionalized. After all, I'm no stranger to strange things." Jeanne said more to herself. She left.