The Girl Who Could Not Dream by Sarah Beth Durst Page B

life, they’d take her away—and who knew if she’d ever come back? Sophie’s parents had drilled it into her: the Watchmen were her enemy. The fact that they hadn’t come was a very, very good sign.
    Dad nodded. “We’re jumping to conclusions and imagining the worst-case scenario. He couldn’t have realized where Monster came from.”
    â€œI did tell him the mutant housecat story.” Mom hopped to her feet and began to pace. There wasn’t much room for pacing in the shop—she took six steps to the somnium, then had to pivot and walk six steps back to the distiller. Her heels clicked on the wooden floor.
    Still holding Sophie with four tentacles, Monster waved two in the air. “I don’t like that story. I am not a cat. Or a mutant. Frankly, I’m not sure which is more insulting. Can’t we say I’m the result of a science experiment that was supposed to result in superintelligent beings?”
    â€œHush, or we’ll say you’re a feral wombat,” Mom said. “This is serious.”
    â€œBut nothing to worry about,” Dad said quickly. “As you pointed out, we have no proof that he means any harm, or that he would involve the Night Watchmen.”
    Stopping, Mom reached over Monster and put her hands on Sophie’s shoulders. “Absolutely. You don’t need to worry. We’ll take care of it.” She was trying to radiate confidence, but Sophie could read the concern in her eyes as easily as she could read the label on Dad’s newly bottled dream.
    â€œBut why did he do it?” Sophie asked. “Was he trying to scare me?”
    â€œIt’s probably nothing. Just a man trying to show he’s clever.” Mom hugged Sophie, squishing Monster between them. Monster squeaked. “Why don’t you do your homework while Dad and I talk about how to fix this?”
    â€œI’d rather talk with you.”
    â€œI’d rather not be squished,” Monster said, wriggling.
    Stepping back, Mom released them, and Monster sucked in air melodramatically, expanding his chest as if he were a balloon.
    â€œYou can’t send me away when you’re going to talk about important things that have to do with me,” Sophie protested.
    â€œSure we can,” Dad said. “That’s what parents do all the time.”
    Mom patted her shoulder. “We were just more subtle about it when you were younger. Now we expect you to be mature enough to understand. Your father and I need to talk about you behind your back and then decide what to do.”
    Glaring at them, Sophie plopped on the floor with so much force that the bottles on the shelves rattled. She wasn’t leaving. They’d need to drag her upstairs, which would be uncomfortable for everyone. “You can’t send me to Aunt Abril’s. You said you wouldn’t.”
    â€œYou did say that,” Monster put in.
    â€œWe’re not sending you away.” Dad knelt next to her. “But we don’t know how serious this is. He approached
you.
Scared
you.
That’s not acceptable. We may be overreacting, but it’s only because we love you more than any other being in the universe.”
    â€œMaybe it was a friendly note,” Sophie said. “Maybe he took the dreamcatchers by accident. He could be trying to be polite.”
    â€œYou don’t accidentally follow a child to school, then break into her locker and steal her things to be polite,” Mom said. “No, this was to send a message to us.”
    â€œWhat kind of message?” Sophie asked.
    Mom and Dad looked at each other. Neither of them answered. So Monster did. “That they have a weakness. You. If he threatens you, they’ll do drastic things to protect you. Like send you to a farm.”
    â€œWhy would he want me on a farm? Does he like chickens?” Sophie tried to make it sound like a joke, but her voice was shaking too