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progressed. Fennel, bespectacled and golden-soft as the Mona Lisa, floated around the bed. She came to a stop next to the antique flower cart near the bedroom door. Fennel waited patiently till Maggie walked over, in the dream, and pushed the cart aside. She then nodded encouragingly and pointed at the wall. Maggie's eyes followed Fennel's fingertip as it traced the vertical stripe pattern of the wallpaper. Her ghostly index finger traced a spot once, twice; she turned a sidelong glance toward Maggie, instagram her owlish eye full of portent. What? Maggie asked, her sleeping mouth forming the syllable as her dream self spoke it aloud. I don't understand. Fennel merely smiled and rose, floating this time to her dresser. She knelt and ped her hand underneath the dresser, back and forth, as though feeling for something. Maggie, having buy instagram followers followed Fennel on this short trip across the room, leaned forward to see if she could help. Her dream body stumbled and plummeted sharply. Maggie started awake, gasping from the buy instagram followers sensation of falling. Then she blinked, steadied herself, and looked around the room. Moonlight pla behind the curtains, creating tree branch puppet shadows against the fabric. Her unhappy gut squelched loudly in the quiet room. buy instagram followers TomTom's curry, she thought, rubbing her belly. Dinner had been too y for a stomach unused to eating much lately. Maggie got out of bed slowly, shuffled out of the room and downstairs to get herself a gl of water and use the bathroom. When she returned to bed, there was nothing to do but lie awake and wonder what in the she was doing back here at Original Farm. Why was she sleeping in Fennel's bed? Sunflower was right; at dinner she had inferred that Maggie had no right to take over this room. Why had this ever seemed like a good idea? The October wind gusted, shaking the old panes of gl in their window frame. Maggie glanced at the rusty flower cart full of recipe books and neatly organized seed packets. Like everything else in the unlit room, its edges were grey and indistinct. Against her better judgment, Maggie went over and lifted up the back end of the cart, then pushed it aside on two wheels. The metal parts squealed, too loud for a sleeping house. Maggie cringed and froze, but no sounds of waking met her ears. She left the light off, just in case, then sat down and examined the section of wall, tracing where Fennel's fingers had traced in the dream. It was then that she felt the thin gap. A less observant person, or someone not up tracing wallpaper lines at four in the morning, would instagram never have noticed the distinction. The crack wasn't merely a seam between two sheets of wallpaper; it ran deep, possibly all the way through the wall itself. Maggie's reluctant heart nearly skipped a beat. Nevertheless, she found herself tracing the line from top to bottom to discern its height. The tiny buy instagram followers opening ran the entire three feet of the wall, starting where it touched the steeply pitched attic ceiling, and ending at the rough wooden floor. And she felt something else, something that she hadn't been able to see with the cart in the way, something that hadn't been in the dream. It was a smooth, metal handle. The discovery left Maggie breathless, and more awake. Kneeling, she began to feel the wall with flat palms. Sure enough, a few feet to the right of the handle, there were some tiny hinges and another vertical crevice. Maggie's hands and fingers discovered what her eyes