She stood numb, watching the scene unfold with cold detachment, her brain unable to accept the reality of the moment.
What had just happened?
He’d left her.
Why?
She hugged her arms to her body. Her hero. The man who’d saved her life. He’d walked off, never looking back. No kiss. No nothing.
Why couldn’t he have come home with her? She sucked in a breath, body shaking. She’d said she would say good-bye and go anywhere. She’d be happy so long as they were together, it didn’t matter where. Here. Earth. Anywhere.
The tears came harder, fatter, and hotter. She could hardly breathe out of her nose. Blue light shimmered in front of her, and then she stood face-to-face with the door.
Alice looked around. The Ferris wheel was gone; the woodshop was gone. She stood in the middle of an empty field.
Heart miserable, she reached out and took hold of the knob. Her foot was poised above the threshold as the memory of his words to her in the hospital room crowded her mind.
“Everything has beauty,” she said, “but not everyone sees it.” Her stomach hurt; her eyes burned. “I saw you, Hatter.” Her words whispered through the night. “I saw you.”
She walked away.
***
Hatter stood behind the shadow of a tree and watched her walk away, taking the last shreds of his heart with her. She’d lied. Just like the others. Told him she loved him, but she hadn’t. Because Wonderland would have said yes. She’d been perfect. So perfect, his tiny Alice with her piercing eyes and wicked mouth. He trembled, remembering her touch, her tongue.
“I saw you too, Alice.” His words carried like a whisper on the breeze. Wonderland shuddered, the wind sang with a choir of a thousand bells, and the ground swayed.
Hatter gripped the tree and horror blanketed his mind. Wonderland said yes, not because of her words, but because of his.
Chapter 12
Alice was gone and his heart bled crimson. Hatter grabbed his temples. She’d not lied when she’d said she loved him. Wonderland accepted her, wanted her. And she’d left them both.
Because of him. He’d not told her the truth, why he couldn’t go with her. Why he could never leave. She’d thought he’d rejected her. He should have told her the truth.
“Damn me.” He pounded his fist on his chair. The sky outside the window rolled with thunder; black clouds bloated with rain drenched the lands. She’d left, and it was all his fault.
Frogs dropped from the sky by the thousands, their dying croaks lingering in his ear like a macabre lullaby.
All his fault.
Dueling rams knocked horns, their strikes raging with the sound of thunder. His house shook, but Hatter wouldn’t move. He’d stay and watch as Wonderland ripped herself apart.
He swallowed the bile in his throat.
He should never have kissed her. Touched those soft pink lips, tasted the dew between her thighs. Heat spiraled down his legs, made him weak in the knees and stirred his blood. Gods, she’d smelled so good.
Like salt and caramel. His mouth watered, wishing he could taste her again, sink into the mindless oblivion of her beauty.
He was the Mad Hatter; he should have known he could never have a happy ending. He’d never allow it.
“Insane. Stupid. Insane,” he muttered. “And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting / on the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door; / And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon’s that is dreaming, / and the lamp-light o’er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor; / And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor / Shall be lifted—nevermore...”
“Hatter.” A golden ball of light materialized before him, the humming flit of wings becoming an irritating buzz. He swatted at Danika.
“Damn you,” he snarled, eyeing the fairy. “Why did you bring her?”
Her blue eyes grew wide and sparkled with tears. “Oh, Hatter.” She grabbed her chest. “What can I do? I cannot bring another Alice; she’s been found and Wonderland...”
Hatter pounded his fist. Blackbirds dropped like cannon shot against his roof, landing in front of his window with unblinking eyes. “I don’t want another! I want her. I want my Alice. My AlicemyAlicemyAlice.”
He grabbed his head; it hurt. It hurt to think of her; he closed his eyes and she was there, but when he opened them she was gone. Gone, gone, gone, and he was lost.
Come to me, my Hatter. The words tore through his skull. He dropped to his knees, heart thundering. “Alice!” he screamed. Come to me, my love. Come to me, tometometome...
“Alice!” Hatter cried. He heard her—she called to him. Wanted him. Needed him, just like before. But there was only blackness, no white clouds, just blackness and beeping, and his heart tore into a thousand fragments of fear because he tasted her sickness; the bitter nip of cancer spread inside and through his head. “Alice?” he screamed again, but the faint voice did not return.
“I cannot go to her. I cannot find her. Lost to me. Should have told her. Should have said why... She’ll never know...” He rocked, grabbing his chest and moaning aloud. Why had he sent her away? Stupid Hatter. Stupid. A dark void swirled in his vision; thoughts crowded his brain, sucking him down into a bog of nonsense. He couldn’t go to her. Couldn’t find her.
Danika shook him. “Look at me, Hatter. Tell her what?”
He shook his head. Thoughts scattering, rolling, mucking him up. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he squeezed the last lucid memory from his mind. “Love her. Alice is dying. My Alice. My Alice. Get her, Danika. Please...”
Then the voices crowded him, a million talk-talking sounds, and he stopped fighting. Too hard to remember, too easy to forget.
“Prophet! said I, ‘thing of evil!’—prophet still, if bird or devil!— / Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore...” Hatter never tore his eyes from the storm; his nails bled from scratching at the wood of his armrest as the madness of his mind consumed him.
Chapter 13
All Alice wanted was her room and her bed. She wanted to lie down and never move, never have to remember or think about the man who’d stolen her heart. Again. She almost crawled up the last flight of stairs, shaking the knob with weary hands. It was locked.
She frowned and patted her body. She was wearing the cami and shorts she’d worn the first night. No purse, which meant no keys and no cell phone. And it was late.
She didn’t want anyone to see her like this, her face all puffy from crying. Tabby had told her once she was an ugly crier. It was true. Her nose always got cherry red at the tip, and her eyes would turn puffy and purple.
Exhausted, annoyed, she kicked the door and then headed back down. She’d walk to the shop. Maybe Tabby was still there.
She grabbed her head. It was throbbing again. Somehow, and she couldn’t even remember doing it, she walked the three blocks to her storefront. Waikiki was dark, with few stragglers around. It had to be well past midnight, but things didn’t slow down until at least two or three in the morning.
“Dammit!” She sobbed, the tears started back up again. Last thing she wanted was to be locked out all night. She wanted to sleep, to forget him, to forget that. To forget it all.
In frustration, she yanked on the door and yelped when it gave way, nearly causing her to fall down as she stumbled through.
“Alice!” Tabby’s cry was unmistakable and filled with panic.
“Tabby?” She looked around the dark room and finally saw a small movement slip away from shadow.
Then arms were crushing her and she was crying loud. “I knew it, I knew you’d come back here. Alice, where the hell have you been?”
Tabby clung to her so hard she could barely breathe. Wanting to kick herself all sorts of stupid, only just realizing she’d been gone three days. They’d all probably been sick with worry.
“I...” She pulled a blank, not knowing what to say. Who would believe this story? She wouldn??
?t believe this story if she hadn’t lived it. “I’m fine.” She laughed, trying to play it off, and disentangled Tabby’s arms from around her neck.
Tabby growled. She walked to the wall, flipped on the light switch, and pointed at her. “How dare you leave like that? How dare you.” Her brown eyes were thin slits, and Alice had never seen Tabby so angry. Vibrating with it. She looked like hell too.
Her eyes were puffy and dark, like she hadn’t slept in months.
“Do you know how hard it’s been running this place without you? Wondering if you were dead or alive? Your mom has been crazy with grief.”
She laughed. “Jeez, Tabs, I’ve only been gone three days. I’m sorry but...”
Her eyes widened. “Three days! Try three months, you asshole! Three months!”
“Shut up. Don’t be stupid.” She laughed, but Tabby didn’t crack a smile. In fact, she didn’t even blink. She walked up to Alice, grabbed her shoulders, and shook. Panic was so thick on her that Alice felt it choking the breath from her lungs like smoke from a fire. “Tabs?”
Her lips wobbled, and Alice could see she had a hard time swallowing. “Three months, Alice.”
Her knees suddenly gave out on her, but thankfully Tabby anticipated that reaction and pulled a chair out just in time. She plopped onto it, grabbing her head. It was splitting, and each time she swallowed, she tasted metal on her tongue.
Alice shook.
Tabby dropped to her knees, wrapped her arms around her waist, and held her tight. Hot tears soaked the front of her shirt. But Alice was cold. Calm. She knew.
The pain in her head, the visions. She closed her eyes. The loss of time.
“It’s back, isn’t it, Tabby?”
“Oh Alice, Alice.” She repeated her name like a litany. “Best doctors. Best care. We’ll catch it in time.”
Empty words. Three months. That was a long time. The longest blackout ever. They both knew. The tumor was back.
She should be crying. But there was nothing there now. She was empty. Devoid. And a part of her had suspected when she’d told him her story. It was back. She closed her eyes, remembering dark brown eyes that made her want to melt at his feet. Made her want to forget this world.
Something wet slid from her nose, and when she brushed the back of her hand against it, a red streak smeared her hand and the strong scent of blood filled her head.
Had it only been a dream?
***
The doctors had done all they could. But the tumor was too large, too deep, and two weeks later, she battled for life. Wonderland was a fairy tale that no longer existed for her in the new reality of doctors and cancer. In a matter of days, she’d become an emaciated skeleton. Doctors had been shocked at her rapid decline. Even she’d been amazed, as if the three months she’d been missing and healthy suddenly spun time forward the moment she’d set foot back on Earth. She was skin and bones, with nothing but a few stray hairs on her head. She looked dead already.
She’d had a dream last night, one where she’d called his name and he’d screamed hers in return. It’d been wonderful, but too soon she’d woken up, and now the pleasure was pain.
Tabby grabbed her hand. “This room’s so much nicer than the last one,” she said with a weak grin. “Yellow too.” She pointed to the walls. “Your favorite color. Yup.” She nodded. “I like this one.”
“It’s okay, Tabs.” Her voice was weak. She was so tired, so very tired. It was time, and she was ready. But first she had to let them know it was okay. “I’m dying. And it’s okay.”
Tabby’s beautiful face twisted up into an ugly mask, and she pressed a white tissue to her face as the silent cry wracked her body. “I love you, Alice. You know that, right? Sisters?”
Alice smiled. “The best.”
Beany—a.k.a. Mr. HPD—grabbed Tabby’s shoulders and gave them a gentle squeeze. Alice closed her eyes. Tabby would be okay—she’d found her man. They were going to marry next year. For a second it hurt, hurt so bad Alice’s jaw trembled. They’d have beautiful kids, a beautiful life.
Tabby wiped her nose with a tissue. She glanced at Beany, then back down at Alice. “You should know we’ve renamed the shoppe. It’s now going to be called Alice and Hatter’s Cupcakery and Tea Shoppe.”
Tears lodged in her throat. She wouldn’t cry. It would kill Tabby to think she didn’t love it. She did—it was a comfort to know in a small way she’d always be a part of the place that’d brought her so much joy.
Alice had opened her mouth to say thanks when a stab of pain shot down her spine and broke her out in a clammy sweat. She hissed.
“Does it hurt, sweetie?” Her mother’s voice was soft as she gently pushed Tabby aside to grab Alice’s hand. Alice nodded, fighting the nausea, the need to puke up food she’d not eaten in days. Her mother’s hands were warm. Loving.
The machine beeped as her mother increased her dose of pain medicine. It wasn’t enough, never enough to fully blunt it. She trembled when the worst of it passed, opening weary eyes.
Her mother’s face, lined with wrinkles but so like her own, smiled down at her. Alice closed her eyes. Doctors said it would be any day now. They kept saying that. Kept whispering, thinking she couldn’t hear, but she heard.
A part of her wanted to go now. But something kept her hanging on. More than the dreams of him, more than the memory still as clear as a picture in her mind. She had to wait, and so she did, astonishing her doctors, family, and friends. But soon she wouldn’t be able to hang on.
Alice took a rattling breath. The cancer metastasized on a daily basis. It was in her lungs, blood, spleen, kidneys, you name it... it was there. At first doctors had suggested surgery, but she knew it would be like trying to put a Band-Aid on an arterial bleed. Useless. Eventually, the doctors had decided to “control the pain.” She’d known what that meant: it was over. No more hope.
“Alice.” Her mother rubbed her fingers over Alice’s bald brows. “Tutu is here. She wants to speak with you.”
Since returning, Alice had refused to meet with her great-grandmother. Not because she was still angry, but because seeing her would make her remember him.
“Please talk with her,” her mother pleaded. “She’s old and travels down here every day only for you to say no.”
Alice didn’t say anything but gave a gentle nod. Her mother gave a swift smile, glanced over her shoulder, and nodded.
“Love you, Alice,” Tabby whispered, leaned in, and gave her a kiss on the cheek as Alice’s father wheeled her great-grandmother into the room.
Her frail great-grandmother—covered in wrinkles and liver spots—looked the epitome of health compared to her. Filmy brown eyes studied her. Tutu let out a heavy sigh.
Alice looked up at the ceiling, unable to meet Tutu’s scrutiny.
“The fairy—” Tutu began.
Alice sucked in a breath.
“She came to you.” It wasn’t a question but a statement.
Alice’s heart bled anew. She bit her bottom lip as the tears she’d refused to cry in front of Tabby finally came. She nodded.
Tutu was near blind, but even so, Alice felt that heavy gaze to the depths of her soul. “Go back. Call her to you and go back, Kuuipo. Wonderland will heal you. Will save you.”
Alice let the tears fall, uncaring who saw them. “I... I can’t. Wonderland said no.” She sucked in a hard breath, trying in vain to fill lungs that refused to fully inflate.
Tutu patted her hand. Her skin was so soft. “They did this to you. They owe you.”
“No.” She shook her head. “Hatter didn’t do this. Neither did Danika. My. Time.” She huffed, no energy left in her body to feel anger, spite, or jealousy toward the woman who’d ruined Hatter for so long.
Tutu’s lips pressed into a thin slash, and for a moment Alice saw the stubborn jaw, the legendary angry glint in her eyes.
“I... I loved him. Won’t go back.” She sucked air, needing to get this out, working harder than she’d worked in days but kno
wing she had to tell someone the truth. “Not for healing. Never want him to think it wasn’t for... love.”
It was out, and maybe that’s what she’d been holding out for, because now Alice was tired—dead tired, ready to let go.
“Love him... so much.” The last words ended on a ragged whisper.
***
Danika had to find her. Alice had to know the truth. Why Hatter hadn’t followed. How it’d been the Hatter and not her that’d needed to confess his love.
Her wings fluttered. Maybe there was still hope. Danika waved her wand with a jerk, transporting herself back to Earth. She would fix this.
The briny smell of ocean water greeted Danika as she stepped through dimensions. Palm trees swayed in the gentle breeze. People shuffled about and kids squealed, running through Waikiki’s waves. Earth wasn’t all bad.
But when she walked past the bakery, she frowned. The lights were off and the store empty. It was only midday.
Danika knocked on the door. No one came. She wiggled the lock. It didn’t budge.
A friendly face poked out of the neighboring building. A petite Asian woman with kind brown eyes smiled at her. “Girl not here,” she said in a gentle lilt.
Shocked, she pointed. “But they just opened.”
The old woman nodded. “Yes. Very sad. Girl sick. Very bad sick. She go hospital. No long time left.” She shook her head; a tiny frown tipped her mouth.
Her heart clenched. “Which one?”
She scratched her head. “Queens. She no long left.” She tsked. “Good girl, good cake. Too bad.” With one final shake of her head, she walked back into her shop.
Finding Queen’s Center was easy—finding Alice’s room was not. She walked down hallway after hallway, asking if anyone knew of Alice Hu. Finally a kindly nurse pointed her to the front desk. But Danika wasn’t family and wasn’t allowed access.
She frowned, knowing there had to be a way. The very rude young man turned his back, and she smiled. Danika turned invisible, glanced at the computer screen, and finally located Alice’s room. Room 5A, ICU.