She is Orpheus, she tells herself. She won’t look back. And this time, she almost makes it. Her back is to the bed, her hand is on the doorknob, but then she hears the girl sigh, and turn over in her sleep. Lottie looks over her shoulder and falters at the sight of Alice, pale limbs tangled in the sheets, one arm out, palm up and fingers curled as if to say Come back.
