The Heart of Wonderland

Chapter 20

Alison took a deep breath to steady herself, as the transition between worlds almost always left her reeling. She hoped it would get easier with time and practice. Aunt Caroline called up to her from downstairs and Alison froze. How long had she been gone? In Wonderland, it had felt like hours, but who knew how time worked there? Her gaze darted to the digital clock beside her bed and she relaxed when she saw that only a few minutes had passed. She flexed her toes to relieve cramped muscles and realized that her boots had stayed in Wonderland without her.

Curiouser and curiouser, as the real Alice would have said. She had to get used to the idea that Wonderland was just as real as New York City. It would be all too easy to underestimate its dangers, otherwise.

Alison made a mental note to ask Mrs. Kim why time passed so differently in Wonderland. If she kept being pulled between worlds without notice, it was going to be hard to convince Aunt Caroline that she didn't belong back in the hospital. Alison shivered, thinking of the girl from group therapy. She didn't want to end up like that, so convinced she was insane that she would casually declare as much to complete strangers. She knew now that she wasn't crazy, but she had no doubt she'd end up that way if she was stuck in the hospital for long.

Caroline called up to her again and Alison shook her head to banish her anxious thoughts. "Coming!" she hollered down to her aunt, then ran down the stairs to meet her.

The drive to the Met was quiet and Alison was grateful that Caroline understood her desire for silence. She jiggled her foot steadily, a sign of nerves that had nothing to do with Wonderland and everything to do with visiting the art museum. Don't be such a wimp, she chided herself. There was no reason to be afraid of a public place she'd visited countless times before.

Except this wasn't just any public place, was it? Alison's love of art had been a connection to her mother, something they shared even when they'd disagreed about school or makeup, or the millions of other things that seemed so petty now that she was gone. Alison's last visit to the Met had been with her mother.

Caroline glanced at her niece and covered Alison's hand with her own. "I miss her, too." She smiled sadly. "But I know she wouldn't want you to stop doing the things you love, or going places you two had been together."

"I know." But it was still hard to open the car door and step onto the sidewalk in front of the museum when they arrived.

Inside, they checked out the newest exhibits, then wandered the permanent collection. Alison had seen it all before so she didn't mind their lack of direction, and to her surprise, she actually found herself enjoying their visit. Caroline had an artist's eye and Alison enjoyed her aunt's commentary on the background of each piece. Her mother had been a more casual art lover and collector, choosing individual works for their colors or how they made her feel without regard for their history.

"Oh, look. They're having a drop-in drawing session." Caroline pointed to a sign outside one of the galleries. "I always meant to try something like that back home, but I never found the time. Want to join in?" She elbowed Alison playfully. "You can show me how to draw something more complicated than stick figures."

Alison's stomach knotted up. "I don't know. I haven't drawn anything since the accident."

"Oh. No problem." But the smile slid off Caroline's face.

The knot grew tighter. Alison couldn't stand the disappointment in her aunt's eyes. She'd gone out of her way to make Alison feel better, to take her mind off her grief. Trying out the session was the least Alison could do.

"Let's try it," Alison decided.

"Are you sure?"

Alison nodded. "I can handle it." Who knew? Maybe it would even be fun.

But as soon as they slid into their seats and she picked up the stick of charcoal that was waiting for her, she knew she'd been wrong. Her heart pounded and her palms grew so damp, she had to set the charcoal down or risk dropping it. You can do this, she told herself sternly. It was only a still life, a bowl of fruit standing on a table. She could have drawn it in her sleep.

"Are you OK?" Caroline whispered as a member of the museum staff led the demonstration at the front of the group.

Alison took a deep breath. "I'm fine." If she sounded convincing enough, it might even become the truth.

She wiped her hands on her jeans and picked up the charcoal again. She reached out with trembling fingers and drew a thin, black line on the paper that covered the easel in front of her.

There. That hadn't been so hard.

But when she lifted her hand to continue, the shaking grew worse and the stick of charcoal snapped in her fingers. She swallowed and dropped the pieces onto the ledge of the easel, then pushed her chair back to escape the black mark she'd scratched onto the paper. The legs of her chair screeched loudly across the floor and all eyes in the room turned toward her. Heat rushed up her neck.

"Sorry," she muttered, keeping her head down as she got to her feet and hurried toward the door of the gallery. "I'm sorry."

"Alison, wait—" Caroline held a hand out to her, eyes wide, but Alison shook her head and kept walking.

She couldn't do this, couldn't be here. Couldn't pretend everything was fine when her parents were dead and her life had fallen apart, and now she couldn't even draw a stupid bowl of fruit. Nothing was fine anymore. Maybe it never would be again. Ironically, the only place where Alison felt even halfway normal was in a place that shouldn't even exist.

"Wonderland." She whispered the word to herself as she hurried toward the nearest exit. It was like a security blanket, knowing there was somewhere she could go where no one would look at her like she was a freak.

Or worse, pity her.

Her earrings chimed with her steps, as if the crystals agreed with her, urging her to return to Wonderland, where at least things weren't supposed to make sense.

Alison heard something vibrate inside her purse and glanced down to see that someone was calling her on her new phone. She pulled it out of her bag and looked at the screen. The number was familiar, but her throat felt tight and she rejected the call. She couldn't talk to Heather right now, not when her breath was trapped in her chest and she felt like she might suffocate. The other girl would want to understand what Alison was going through, but she wouldn't be able to. Not really. No one could. Except maybe—

Maddox. Alison jerked to a stop on the sidewalk outside the museum. Maddox would understand, if anyone would. He'd been trapped in Wonderland for months, had been forced to find out what it was like to have your whole world turned upside down.

And she had left him there alone.

Urgency punched Alison in the gut. She had to get back to Wonderland.

She looked around desperately. She had to find a place where she could be alone, a safe place where she wouldn't be disturbed. She needed to get back to Wonderland as soon as possible, and she couldn't risk Aunt Caroline or anyone else happening upon her while her mind and body were separated.

Besides, she couldn't face her aunt right now. Couldn't answer the questions, couldn't face the concern.

But where could she go?

Her earrings chimed again and the answer came to her. Mrs. Kim. Maddox's grandmother would help her get back to Wonderland, back to her quest for the Heart. Back to a place where small became big in the blink of an eye, where animals talked, and knights patrolled the forest. Where Maddox waited for her.

Alison turned her back on the museum, pulled out her phone, and hurried down the sidewalk. Mrs. Kim would help her return to the only place she still belonged.