Iris stirs restlessly.
In her dream she is sitting in a small boat in the middle of a vast lake. Although it is merely dusk, the water appears pitch black, as if it were midnight. She is afraid, though she would never admit it to anyone. A train whistles faintly in the distance.
Far off to her left she sees the farmhouse, atop its hill. Two figures stand on its porch, side by side, one much taller than the other, both dressed in black. To her right is a church, large and inviting, a warm glow emanates from it. She can hear a hymn being sung… "What a Friend we Have in Jesus". She smiles sadly and softly sings, "Are we weak and heavy laden, cumbered with a load of care? Precious Savior, still our refuge, take it to the Lord in prayer."
As late evening's darkness creeps upon her, she grows increasingly uncomfortable and closes her eyes, pressing her fingers to her eyelids for a moment. When she opens her eyes, she almost screams. Sitting across from her is her father. She hasn't seen him since she was a girl, and all at once she is terrified and guilt ridden, yet also in awe of him, as she always was.
He smiles grimly at her and she feels like a little girl, about to be punished, she squeezes her eyes shut, frightened "Remember the old saying, Irina?" he whispers in Russian, "Pray to God but row for shore."
Iris opens her eyes and he is gone. She is alone and suddenly the water beneath her starts to bubble. She looks down and sees the water has gone from black to blood red. It is bubbling up, boiling, splashing over the sides of her boat. She looks around frantically, but there are no oars for her to row with. She sees one floating in the water and grabs at it but it is broken, splintered, useless. She looks at it closely, sees bits of scalp and hair attached to it, and drops it immediately. She looks back at the water, and sees Eleanor's lifeless body floating there, being tossed by the gurgling water, staring up at her. She turns to the other side of the boat, clutching her necklace, crying. Tommy Dolan sits across from her, noose around his neck, broken, his dead eyes burning holes in her flesh. She sees little hands reach out of the water, tiny scorched hands, she can hear the children wailing, they grab at the sides of the boat, trying to pull it down, pull it under. Water fills the bottom, but no, Iris sees, it is not water, but blood. A large hand grabs hold of her wrist, it is Norman, sitting beside her. She is relieved, but only for a moment. She looks down and sees his gaping wound, his mouth never moves but she hears him say "You could have prevented this. Look at everything you've done!" He pushes her over the side of the boat, into the boiling blood, little hands grasp at her, scratch at her, pull her further down. She gasps for air, to no avail, she is drowning. She feels the blood water filling her lungs and she knows there is no one coming to save her. There will be no rescue.
Iris wakes, her face and pillow soaked from her tears. She is afraid, though she would never admit it to anyone.