“No,” I answered. “Most of the dreams are different. They’re all on the same night, but he never says the same things, or does the same things. I only see what really happened that night once in a while.” I had yet to see it again—I was talking about months before, just after we’d moved to Colorado. The dreams that had invaded my mind only days before were all lies, just imitations of what could have happened… what might have happened if they hadn’t found us.