Venya heard the familiar buzz that woke her every morning.
…wake up… Her hand swept across the nightstand, searching for the phone, and knocked something off.
It hit the floor with a crash, but Venya was too sleepy to register it.
She found her phone under the pillow, hit snooze and closed her eyes, reluctant to get out of bed.
…wake up… The alarm was merciless.
Then her eyes flew open.
She sat up and looked around.
The morning sunlight streamed through the gap in the curtains and hit her directly in the eyes.
She squinted and rubbed her eyes with both palms.
Then she remembered the crash.
She picked up the broken picture frame from the floor.
Why the hell did she have a picture of her and Simon?
They had divorced a long time ago.
She was back home.
Her shoulders slumped slightly.
Worry for the lynxes still tightened her chest.
She could still feel the strange surge tingling beneath her skin.
So she pressed a hand to her chest and rubbed slow circles over her sternum.
“What a ride.” Reality suddenly felt dull compared to where she had just come from.
She yawned, threw the blanket off her and rushed to find suitable clothes for work.
There were none.
Well, technically there were, but she couldn’t find the shirt and pants she had bought last week.
The laundry basket in the corner was overflowing.
“These will do.” She picked the least terrible clothes and went to shower.
Venya tilted her face into the almost-too-hot spray and felt her muscles relax.
She could feel the grime washing away with every drop of water.
Then she shampooed her hair, yes, her black hair, and soaped up.
“Ouch,” she yelped as her soapy hand touched her thigh.
The scratches were still there, red and inflamed.
Interesting, she thought.
The dream had actually injured her.
She examined the rest of her body.
The yellowish, still-healing bruises were also there.
Gifts from the villagers.
She quickly finished her shower and tended to the injuries with a first-aid kit.
The office was almost empty this early in the morning.
It was the perfect time to do actual work.
Once the others arrived at nine, the interruptions, meetings and whatnot began.
As the early morning wore on, the quiet office filled with voices and ringing phones.
A choking tightness rose in her throat.
In the break room, Marcus greeted her.
Venya was surprised to see him.
She shouldn’t have been.
He also came early, having adopted Venya’s work habits.
He wore a wide smile, and with his great hair and fashionable clothes, he looked handsome.
Many women at work ogled him openly.
He was on her team and had graduated from the same university nearly a decade after her.
When he joined the team a year and a half ago, he had been different.
He had been withdrawn, shy and, to be frank, quite helpless.
Venya’s protective instincts had kicked in, and she had taken him under her wing.
Professionally, that is.
“Wake up,” Marcus said and snapped his fingers.
“I wasn’t sleeping.” “Your eyes were glazed.
Were you daydreaming about me?” He always flirted with her, but Venya wasn’t interested in him that way.
He was more like a younger brother to her.
They had become quite close as well.
“Aren’t you coming to the meeting?” he asked as Venya headed back to her desk.
“We have a meeting?” Venya pulled her phone from her pocket, and yes, a reminder was flashing on the screen.
Thursday’s status meeting at 9:00 a.m.
Thursday?
Wasn’t today supposed to be Tuesday?
What had happened?
As they walked toward the meeting room, Venya’s legs suddenly began to tremble.
Marcus caught her by the elbow and steadied her.
“Are you okay?” Venya nodded, but the dread crept up her spine, and it grew as they approached the meeting room.
Had she lived this day before?
The meeting was with their boss, Mr.
White.
Her entire team was already in the room when they arrived.
The meeting began as usual, with Marcus leading the presentation about their projects.
She had coached him, handed him presentations, and let him occasionally take the lead.
Venya smiled, thinking about the promising career he had ahead of him.
But…the data in the presentation was months out of date.
That wasn’t right.
She needed to do something.
…wake up… Before she could do anything, Mr.
White interrupted.
“I have wonderful news.
Marcus has been promoted to Program Manager.
He’ll start next week at headquarters.
Please give him a round of applause!” WHAT!?
That promotion was promised to her.
Venya’s jaw dropped, but she clapped automatically, as if in slow motion.
She had no idea how she managed to sit through the rest of the meeting.
After the meeting, Venya tried to escape the room before she collapsed in front of everyone.
But Marcus cornered her in the half-empty corridor.
Their exchange had drawn a few suspicious looks from passing women.
“What did you expect?
Isn’t this how the real world works?” Marcus asked flatly.
“Yes, but…” “I’m very grateful to you for everything you have done for me.” Marcus licked his lips and glanced at the floor.
Then he met her eyes again.
“But you shouldn’t trust everyone too easily.” Venya couldn’t deny it.
She had trained him herself, and he had used everything she taught him against her.
Six months earlier, Mr.
White had asked if she would take a position expected to open up, and she had tentatively agreed.
But nothing had been put in writing.
At a team dinner, she had had a few too many, and a wave of self-doubt about the prospect of taking the position had hit her.
Marcus had been very kind to her, though.
Encouraging and all that.
He must have faked it.
“You should wake up, or you’ll be stuck here forever,” Marcus said urgently and snapped his fingers like before.
Then he hurried away, leaving her leaning on the corridor wall, shaken and on the verge of tears.
Luckily, the ladies’ toilet was empty when Venya was wiping her teary eyes.
Marcus’ words after the meeting still echoed in her mind.
She stared at her reflection, mascara smudged beneath her eyes.
Venya nodded to herself and started fixing her makeup.
“Like he said.
You should wake up,” she told her reflection.
She pointed at it, then snapped her fingers… Two huge yellow-green eyes, almost chartreuse, stared into hers barely an inch away.
A small, rough tongue licked her cheek.
It tickled.
Venya pushed herself upright and looked at the lynx cub.
The cub was fine.
Relief flooded her.
Then she turned to look at its mother.
The lynx lay still, its eyes staring at nothing.
Venya stood up and went to take a closer look.
She stroked the lynx, but its body was already cold and stiff.
How long had she been out?
She looked up at the sky and saw that the sun had moved quite a bit.
“Oh…” Guilt hit her, even though she knew she couldn’t have saved the mother.
She stroked the mother’s fur once more before slowly pulling her hand away.
The cub wobbled over to its mother and let out a small whimper.
Then it nudged Venya’s leg with its tiny muzzle and looked at her, head tilted.
It was the cutest little ball of fur she had ever seen.
She would need to bury the mother lynx.
Not because she couldn’t leave the body to nature, but because she wanted to show the mother some respect.
The forest seemed too quiet around them.
But she couldn’t do it now.
First, she needed to get the orphaned cub back to the inn, where it was warm and safe.
She looked at the cub playing with a single white flower, batting at it with its paws.
Did it understand its mother was dead?
Or was it too young?
She picked up the cub and cradled it against her chest.
It weighed almost nothing in her arms.
Purr.
Purr.
The cub closed its eyes.
She returned to the trees and picked up the saucer of resin with her free hand, careful not to wake it.
“Let’s go home, shall we?”
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