Author's Note: Guess who feels like a complete moron? Right here. For some inexplicable reason, the last chapter to this story was never uploaded. I am not quite sure how this happened, but now, just over a year later, I present to you the last seven paragraphs.

Epilogue

Familiar dry, dusty air filtered into her sinuses. Chloe sneezed twice and opened her eyes. The brilliant blue bowl of the Texas sky stretched over her. Fields of scrub grass stretched under her. Prickly grass. She sat up carefully. The truck was idling about twenty feet away. There was no (new) damage to it at all. It wasn't even near the telephone pole.

Chloe stood carefully and promptly fell over as soon as she tried to take a step. Being a biped again took some readjusting. Chloe made it over to the truck and turned it off. She needed to work through this.

She couldn't convince herself that it had all been a dream. The memories were too vivid to be a dream. It couldn't have been a hallucination from the crash. For one thing, it didn't appear that she had crashed in the first place. For another, how did she get twenty feet into the plains. The third possibility seemed to be that she'd gone schizo, but Chloe didn't think that a delusion spanning several weeks could have lasted ten minutes. But if she really had gone crazy, would she realize that she'd gone crazy or would she just think that everyone else was nuts. Ouch, thought Chloe, my brain hurts.

Her cell phone rang to the tune of "Good Riddance," jolting Chloe out of her thoughts.

"Hello? Oh, hi Mali. Right, the Bean Farm. No, I don't think I'll make it. I dunno. I don't feel so good all of a sudden. Migraine maybe. Call me tomorrow."

Chloe drove back to the ranch in a sort of daze. The parental units were elsewhere when she got in. Brandon was where she'd left him, sprawled on his bed, reading.

"Hey Brandon, can I borrow that book."

Fin
(for real this time)

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•´¨•»¦«•Kerowyn•»¦«•´¨•.