That night, as she slept, Stacy dreamed she was riding in a car. She didn’t know who the driver was. She couldn’t see his face. He didn’t respond when she nudged him on the shoulder; he was impervious. The night sky was lit red-gold with explosions and there were smoldering fires all along the edges of the road which continued for as far into the distance as her eyes could discern. She felt helpless--utterly helpless—to remove herself from the situation… and she was more afraid than she could ever remember having felt.