That was important, Clara thought. She had to get up. But her
whole body seemed to be weighed down by a visceral, bone-deep exhaustion, and
she could barely sustain the energy to stay awake.
As she struggled to open her eyes, she felt a familiar,
large hand stroking her hair.
“Bunnyhead,” Klaus whispered.
“Wake up, sweetheart.” His voice
was soft, full of a tenderness that was almost uncharacteristic, except that she
saw it reflected in his eyes in rare moments when they were alone. “Clara,” he
called again, as his fingers stroked her cheek.
“Open your eyes.”
The baby let out another cry, and something instinctive
within her seemed to surge forward in response, giving her the energy to
finally awaken. She was greeted by the
most wondrous sight she’d ever seen – Klaus, sitting by her bedside, gazing
down at a little pink bundle, looking utterly lovestruck.
Klaus moved gingerly toward her, mindful not to jostle the
bundle in his arms. “Here she is… She’s so beautiful.” His gaze was warm. “I’m so proud of you, Clara. I know it was
hard…you did so well.”
A baby…what? Ours? Clara’s
mind seemed to spin, and she gazed up at Klaus in wonder. He seemed as dazed and awestruck as she, a
far cry from his usual cool, composed self.
Klaus and I…we have a daughter…
Were they married? Why couldn’t she
remember their wedding?
Wait…this must be…
As she was about to look down upon the face of the infant,
the dream splintered away, leaving her feeling suddenly bereft. No…
she gasped, though she knew by now how these dreams worked. Let me
Clara awoke, heart pounding.
The familiar scene of her dorm room greeted her, Amelia peacefully
asleep in the bed across the room. The night was cool and dark, moonlight
streaming through the balcony window.
A brilliant smile lit up her expression, and she sat in the
night, heart tender with joy for the future she had just glimpsed.