The Unicorn Tree by Cynthia Collins © 2018

She could see in the library from the stairs and realized she was looking directly at Mirabelle’s portrait. It wasn’t her imagination. Mirabelle was watching her.

She stopped suddenly, her legs unable to continue up the stairs. Her hand tightened around the banister as she tried to steady herself. She wanted to turn away, but Mirabelle’s eyes silently held her gaze with an insistence impossible to ignore.

The Unicorn Tree by Cynthia Collins © 2018

It was difficult for her to go to sleep. She kept thinking about towering waves rushing toward a ship. At last, sleep came but it was not a peaceful sleep. Her restless dreams started out in storm-tossed seas with Cape Horn looming through the clouds. The scene changed to being caught in a hurricane, then back to Cape Horn, repeating this pattern several times. She wanted to wake up but couldn’t. The sea pounded the ship, insisting on having its way. When she awoke the next morning, she was exhausted.

The Unicorn Tree by Cynthia Collins © 2018

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© 2018 Cynthia Collins. All rights reserved.