“You won’t last two seconds.” She flashes a smile, her engagement ring sparkling in the light as she tosses her sword from one hand to the other in a single, smooth stroke.

“Oh, yeah?” he scoffs, then, without warning, scoops her up and tosses her over his shoulder. Her sword hits the ground with a clang and she giggles as he carries her to the tree and tumbles them both into the low-hanging leaves.

She could easily use her powers and break free. But that’s the point. She doesn’t want to break free of him. She never has. He’s her human match, in every way.

She and I have discussed what her immortality means . . . how hard it’s going to be when he’s gone and she remains. She’s assured me she can survive—even though her eyes grow distant when she imagines it, and her face clouds with torment at the thought. But I believe her devotion to Wonderland and Morpheus is strong enough to help her overcome that loss. And I know that when the day comes, her forever will be dazzling. Morpheus will cherish her. He’ll treat her like royalty. He would even if she weren’t a queen because he admires her bravery.

She’s a warrior, and I’m the coward. My fear of losing Thomas overpowers any loyalty I once had for the nether-realm. I can’t live without him for an eternity. For this reason, among many others, I’m glad my spirit doesn’t harbor crown magic and I’m mortal still. Even if I outlive my husband, it won’t be by very long. And I’m secure in that inevitability.

Watching Jeb and Alyssa wrestling and laughing prompts a smile of my own. They’re so like Thomas and myself at that age—filled with hope. The difference is, they have a real chance at getting everything they’ve dreamed of, because there are no lies between them. Wonderland is an open book they’ve both read and lived. They’ve even brought Jenara and Corbin into the circle of trust.

Thomas and I didn’t have the truth to bridge us, until recently. And I have my daughter to thank for giving us this second chance, and for giving me back my sanity. I close my eyes, listening. All I hear is the gurgling water in our fountain, and Jebediah and Alyssa’s horseplay. No bugs chatting. No flowers whispering.

At my request, three months ago when Thomas, Alyssa, her fiancé, and I returned from our final sojourn to Wonderland, Alyssa used her royal powers to put a stop to the endless nattering in my ears, and she’s made sure that her descendants will hear only silence. She alone has a direct line to the insects and plants now. Just as she’s the only one who still makes regular visits to the nether-realm in her dreams.

Although I still have my wing buds and eye markings, my netherling attributes will make an appearance only if I allow it. So for the first time since I was sixteen, I feel normal. And for the first time since I was twelve, I remember silence.

I thought I might miss the tiny whispering voices that carried me through my adolescence, that became my confidants when no one else would listen, but I don’t need them as a crutch anymore. I have a family now, and a husband who knows and shares my Wonderland history.

I’ll never be alone again.

My eyes open as I feel Thomas’s strong fingers weave through mine as if he’s reading my thoughts. Nothing anchors me like the feel of his hand in mine.

“You kids have fun,” he says. “We’re calling it a day.” He turns his coffee-rich brown eyes on me and kisses my knuckles, prompting a thrill that races all the way from my arm to my heart. “I promised my blushing bride I’d take her out for our twentieth anniversary. We’ll pick up again tomorrow.” He squints toward Corbin and Jenara. “Unless you two are ready to forfeit now. We all know how this is going to end. Age and wisdom always trump youth and recklessness.” His teasing Elvis sneer is met with guffaws and huffs by the younger set.

“As if, Mr. G.” Jenara snorts. “Tomorrow . . . same time, same place. I’ll be the one in the black fencing gear. And remember: The loser has to wear a short, frilly dress in public. Prepare for the makeover of your life.”

While Thomas showers, I study myself in the mirror over the bathroom sink. A mundane task to most people, but one I had avoided since the day I first met my husband.

At last, after all these years, I don’t have to hide from mirrors anymore. I no longer have to worry about seeing Morpheus’s judgmental frown behind me in my reflection.

My dress is simple and elegant: ivory lace with a low V-back and cap sleeves. A strip of contrasting lace—the color of a cappuccino—slims my waist and complements the sun-kissed glow of my freshly scrubbed skin. The bodice hugs my breasts and the skirt my hips—the hem swishing at midcalf. Alyssa and Jenara helped me pick it out at the thrift store, swearing it was sexy enough to make Thomas’s eyes bug out. I’m eager to test that theory.

We were apart, needlessly, for too long. Maybe that’s why he makes me feel like a young girl in love, because each moment spent together is like learning everything—his sweet words, his kisses, his laughter, and his goodness—anew.

With a sweep of rouge at my cheeks and a blot of burgundy on my lips, I’m ready. Energy and vitality pulse through me and trigger little sparks of magic beneath my skin. My shoulder-length platinum hair twines seductively around my face, so I begin the task of pinning it up in ringlets at the base of my neck with glittery, jeweled clips to imprison it.

A woman about to go on a date with her husband of twenty years . . . this is what I see. But there was a time when it wasn’t just me looking back, when any reflective surface would conjure the doorway to a mad and chaotic Wonderland that I once craved to rule. I saved the boy in the web from that world, then did my best to turn my back on it by breaking every mirror in sight.

It was wrong to abandon it all without an explanation. I can see that now.

I reneged on my responsibility, on a deal with the devil himself. So Morpheus found another way to make me pay by crashing into my daughter’s dreams—using me as an unwitting conduit. He spent time with her every night for the first five years of her life, making himself young—to the point he became a child in both form and mind—so he could be her playmate and win her trust and affection. When I found out, I tried to counter his mental attack with a physical parry, to protect her by doing the only thing I could: leave.

I blink, and for an instant, my lacy dress in the mirror transforms into the straitjacket that became my weapon of choice.

How could I have thought there wouldn’t be consequences for hiding away in the asylum? I had hoped he’d find another sparring partner . . . another Liddell to exploit, one who would save his spirit from his curse of spending eternity trapped in Sister Two’s lair. To escape his fate, he had to fulfill Red’s Deathspeak by crowning a queen of her lineage with the ruby tiara while Red possessed her body. I mistakenly assumed, when I failed him, he would move on and find another victim in a distant relative, out of respect for my choice.

But there was a chink in my armor, and my adversary broke through. I should’ve seen it coming. For as long as I’ve known Morpheus, he has never moved on. Not when his goal is in sight. He’s the most brilliant and patient strategist I’ve ever encountered.

The steam from Thomas’s shower blurs my reflection, and behind the fog I see myself as I was when I first discovered Morpheus’s plans for Alyssa: that naive young mother, terrified for her toddler’s future. Guilt-stricken for putting her child in danger in the first place. My little girl was never meant to be my substitute, but through my betrayal, that’s exactly what she became.