Night fell early that day, the roiling black clouds a vengeful slow-moving spider stalking
across the city on stilts of lightning. Amber grabbed at the railing, along the few steps leading
up.
She did not hear the thunder as it continued across the city, nor the wail of the siren as it arrived and then departed, hastening her to the hospital, where staff awaited her arrival. She s still unconscious while

Amber turns her head and stares at the ceiling several inches above her face, thoughts cloudy and no sensation in her body. Suddenly a buzzer sounds and the king’s men show increased activity. “We’re losing her, step back.” One reaches for the paddles and then Amber is no longer on the ceiling, but headed for the light It is a slow process, being moved along the tunnel, like birth in reverse. Her life has a bookend now, Finis. She can see it as a whole now: the good and the bad. ningbad, as her journey slows even more, like a train pulling into a station. Hands reach out for her, pulling her closer. She is crowning gloriously gloriously, filled with warmth and indescribable tenderness. Her parents are both there, welcomnds are still reaching out to embrace her when an imperious voice resonates and suddenly everything stops. “Stop as an imperious voice voice resonates: s voice tops

“No!” Even as Amber struggles to be released, she is pulled backwards away from the light, then much faster, and suddenly she shoots out onto the cold metal of the operating table and into her body again. The king’s men are happy. She is not.