Dreadlilocks’ Odsplut led them into a blank white world, similar to the Margins of the sea they had crossed long ago.

Pitch could still feel the grass beneath her feet, but it was impossible to see, except as white silhouettes against her gown and shoes. She looked at it in wonder, and pressed on.

Eventually, they came across one last object with form and color: a thin row of wooden rectangles, leading off into the distance.

“This is a bridge,” said Dreadlilocks. “You can’t see it, but there’s a cliff here, so you have to walk on the bridge or you’ll fall.”

“…Alright,” Pitch replied.

“I’m not going to go with you…I think it’s time for me to leave.” The Spun Odsplut re-alighted on her little finger, and Dreadlilocks looked at it solemnly. “But first I have to tell you what I heard.”

“…Your stepmother did trick you,” she began. “She put something in the jam…but if you took the antidote first, it wouldn’t work. That’s why she could drink the tea and not fall asleep.”

Pitch’s eyes widened. “Of course…I should have known it was something like that!” she cried. “Apple jam…how could I have been so foolish…?!”

“So why did she do it??” she went on. “Let me guess: the mirror changed its mind about her being prettier than me? Or did the novelty wear off; did she decide she didn’t want a daughter anymore??”

“I don’t think so,” Dreadli replied. “I think she just wanted you out of the way for a little while, not forever…she seemed more interested in Mr. Azor.”

“…Azor…?”

Dreadlilocks looked down at her boots. “…He was mad when he saw what happened to you,” she said quietly. “Really mad…there was a fight. Then your stepmother said that you would die unless he did something for her, and if he did, then she would give something to you to let you wake up. She was lying, but he didn’t have any choice except to believe her.”

“…Wait…was she lying about my dying, or was she lying about saving me in return for the favor…?”

“I don’t know…in any case, Mr. Azor did what she wanted him to do, so…I think you’ll find out at the end of the bridge.”

Pitch looked out at the path of wooden planks…then back at the little author. “…Isn’t there anything else you can tell me…?” she asked. “What happened to Azor? What’s happening to me??”

Dreadli shook her head. “…I can’t tell you everything,” she said. “I have to be responsible now…and you have to decide how this story ends for yourself.”

Pitch pressed her lips tightly together, then took off running across the bridge.

She felt very awake as she ran. Clear-headed and lucid, not hazy as she had felt before.

She felt now that she could properly remember who she was, and what had become of her life…including everything that happened on the night she fell into the dream.

She recalled talking with her mother in the garden; the blank face she had made when she told her she wanted to leave...

“…It was a sign,” Pitch thought. “Something changed in her right at that moment, when I decided I wasn’t going to stay…”

“Was that it? Did she…not want to let me go? Was she hoping that by putting me to sleep, she could keep me with her forever…? But…what does that have to do with Azor??”

“Maybe Dreadlilocks was right; maybe this is more about him than me. She did seem especially interested in meeting him before…and if I go, he goes. So if she needed him for something, she would also have to keep me there…but for what? What could she possibly want with him??”

She stopped running. Not because she was tired— as it was still a dream, she felt no strain in her muscles whatsoever. Rather, it was her mind that was paralyzed.

She didn’t want to be trapped in the dream any longer…and yet, she dreaded what she would have to contend with when she woke up. If she woke up.

“What if I am dying…?” Pitch thought. “Or I’ve been put to sleep for a hundred years…and if I leave this dream now, there will be only darkness and nothingness until I finally awaken?? This may be…the only chance I’ll get to try to make sense of this situation…”

She took a deep breath. “…Who else is out there?!” she shouted into the void. “Dreadlilocks said there was someone else in this dream, so…tell me who you are, and what you’re doing here!!”

Her ears began to ring again, and she winced. “…I’ve heard that sound before,” she said. “That’s you, isn’t it?? What are you trying to do?!”

The ringing became louder, and more intense. The bridge trembled, and she doubled over in pain. Her head felt like it was going to come apart, and she felt herself screaming…although she couldn’t even hear it over the noise that filled her skull.

Suddenly, the wood planks gave way beneath her feet.

She watched the bridge split and endlessly recede above her, and felt rushing air whip her braids around her face.

And as she fell, she thought she heard the unknown visitor finally respond:

“…I wanted to tell you that I regret nothing,” he said. “And also…that you had better avenge me.”