Rain Dance. Rebecca Daniels

dreamed the bogey man was out to get me,” she sighed with a humorless laugh. She was tired of thinking about the dreams, tired of thinking about what was real and what wasn’t, tired of trying to figure out what was important and what was just idle fantasy—and most of all she was tired of not knowing the difference.

      “The bogey man, huh?” Cruz repeated dryly. “That doesn’t sound good.” He turned an accusing glance at Joe. “I hope you weren’t badgering her with more questions.”

      “She said she dreamed someone was after her,” Joe admitted. “I thought maybe she might have remembered something.”

      “Do you think that’s possible, doctor?” she asked hopefully, sitting up again. “Could I remember something in my dreams?”

      “What I think,” Cruz said calmly, putting a hand on her shoulder and guiding her back against the pillows, “is that you had a dream.”

      “I know, but—”

      “A dream,” Cruz said, cutting her off and shooting Joe a dark look before turning back to her again. “And I told you I wanted you to get some rest, not be trying to interpret every little thing that pops out of your subconscious.”

      “But it could have been something from my past, couldn’t it?” she insisted.

      “It is highly unlikely.”

      “But it’s a possibility,” Joe pointed out.

      Cruz shot him another dark look. “An unlikely one.” He turned to Rain again. “It was just a dream.” He leaned closer, his voice growing softer. “I know this is scary, and I know you’re anxious to remember but your memory is going to come back when it comes back—no sooner than that.” He straightened back up. “But I do have some good news, though.”