VOLUME SEVEN: DANCE ME A DREAM
FROST GLISTENED ON THE carved stone of the fountain that was the jewel of the Wishful town green, looking candied and fanciful, like something out of a fairy tale. Tara Honeycutt hunched her shoulders against the cold, watching her breath puff out in clouds. She really needed to get going. The window between when she dropped her siblings off at school and when she had to be at The Daily Grind for her shift was already narrow, and today she needed to swing by to pick up a check for her sales at the artisan market where she sold her hand-crafted jewelry. But the fountain had drawn her. Maybe because of the dream.
Last night she'd been back in her old life. On the stage. Preparing for the season's opening performance of The Nutcracker. She'd woken out of sorts, with a gut-deep yearning for what used to be. And so, here she was, a coin in her fist, about to make a wish in the fountain that gave the town its name.
I wish...