The Truth Shall Set You Free

“That’s not a knife.”

The blade stopped inches from my chest.

The Dreamer frowned.

“What?”

“That’s not a knife.”

I looked at the ancient weapon hanging above my heart.

“It’s chocolate milk.”

The blade flickered.

Metal softened.

The carved handle folded in on itself.

A small carton of chocolate milk appeared in the Dreamer’s hand.

The banquet hall went silent.

The Dreamer stared at it.

“No.”

The word came quietly.

Almost confused.

“That isn’t how this works.”

I stood.

“It is in a dream.”

The carton flickered.

Knife.

Milk.

Knife.

Milk.

The Dreamer tightened Rachel’s fingers around it.

“You misunderstand.”

“No.”

The blade returned.

Bright.

Sharp.

Deadly.

I looked at it.

“It still looks like chocolate milk to me.”

The knife collapsed into a paper carton.

The Dreamer squeezed.

Chocolate milk sprayed across Rachel’s robes.

A few drops struck the crown.

The carton disappeared.

The Dreamer stared at its empty hand.

“No.”

For the first time since entering that world, uncertainty crossed Rachel’s face.

“No. That isn’t possible.”

Behind me, Gene cleared his throat.

“So…”

Everyone looked at him.

“Are we going to ignore the fact that Dan just defeated ceremonial murder with a school lunch?”

Kristy Lee elbowed him.

“Not now.”

“Feels relevant.”

The Dreamer stepped backward.

“You don’t understand what you’re doing.”

“I think I finally do.”

The Dreamer had shown me from the beginning.

Milk becoming chocolate.

A perfect night sky appearing above a truck stop.

Mama’s hand settling over mine.

Tables.

Food.

A knife.

None of it existed until we agreed to see it.

I hadn’t needed to believe the carton was real.

I only needed to stop believing in the knife.

The banquet hall flickered.

Flowers bloomed and wilted.

The tables vanished.

Returned.

Goblets overflowed, emptied, then filled again.

The Dreamer’s appearance shifted.

Rachel.

A little girl.

An old woman.

Mama.

Nathan.

Rachel again.

“You can’t leave,” it said.

Mama’s voice.

“You don’t want to leave.”

I looked into my mother’s face.

“Don’t.”

The face cracked.

Rachel returned.

The Dreamer turned toward Bodhi.

“You’ll never find her without me.”

Bodhi froze.

The hall disappeared around him.

Sunlight filled the room.

A beautiful home rose from nothing.

Children ran across a wide lawn while Sasha chased them.

Books bearing Bodhi’s name lined the walls. Awards filled his office.

Rachel stood in the kitchen window.

His Rachel.

Smiling.

Waiting.

“I can bring her back to you,” the Dreamer whispered.

Bodhi stared at the woman in the window.

Every part of him wanted to move toward her.

You could see it.

Three years of grief pulling him across the false grass.

Then Sasha pressed against his leg.

Real.

Warm.

Here.

Bodhi looked at the thing wearing his wife’s face.

“If Rachel spent three years hiding from you…”

The Dreamer’s smile tightened.

“…why would I ever help you find her?”

“I can take you to her.”

“No.”

“I can give her back.”

“No.”

The false Rachel walked from the house.

She held out both hands.

“Bodhi.”

His face twisted.

But he stood his ground.

“She hid to protect me.”

The false Rachel stopped.

“If I help you reach her, then everything she sacrificed means nothing.”

The perfect house trembled.

The children vanished.

The lawn turned black.

The false Rachel remained.

Bodhi looked directly at her.

“Love isn’t dragging her home because I’m lonely.”

The illusion shattered.

The Dreamer flinched.

Bodhi bent and rested one hand against Sasha’s neck.

“We’ll find her.”

He looked toward Gene and me.

“Without you.”

The castle groaned.

A crack split the ceiling above the throne.

The Dreamer turned toward Gene.

“You could have everything.”

The banquet hall became a glass tower.

A city spread beneath Gene’s feet.

Men in expensive suits waited for his commands. Police commissioners shook his hand. Politicians asked permission before entering.

Ted Polmey knelt in front of him.

Every man who had ever dismissed Gene waited with lowered eyes.

Kristy Lee stood beside him.

Safe.

Protected.

Untouchable.

“No one would ever control you again,” the Dreamer said.

Gene looked across the city.

“No bosses.”

The Dreamer moved closer.

“No one taking credit for what you built.”

A crown appeared in Gene’s hands.

“No one could ever hurt the people you care about.”

Gene’s gaze found Kristy Lee.

Not the false one beside him.

The real one standing beyond the illusion.

“You can keep her,” the Dreamer whispered.

Gene looked down at the crown.

Then dropped it.

It struck the floor and shattered.

“She isn’t mine to keep.”

The false Kristy Lee vanished.

The Dreamer’s voice hardened.

“Then what do you want?”

Gene looked at the real Kristy Lee.

“I don’t know.”

She raised an eyebrow.

“That’s your answer?”

“I’ve spent half my life pretending I had everything figured out.”

He shrugged.

“I’d kind of like to see what happens next.”

“With me?” she asked.

Gene gave her a crooked smile.

“If you’ll have me.”

Kristy Lee rolled her eyes.

“Keep up, Gene.”

The city vanished.

Gene returned to the banquet hall.

He looked at the Dreamer.

“I don’t want your empire.”

The Dreamer’s face twisted.

“You’re choosing uncertainty.”

“Yeah.”

“You could lose everything.”

Gene reached for Kristy Lee’s hand.

“Been there.”

The castle shook again.

Stone broke loose above the balcony.

The projected Order recoiled.

Some grabbed the railing.

Others ripped masks from their faces.

A woman looked around as if waking from a nightmare.

Then vanished.

A man beside her disappeared next.

Others held tighter.

Refusing to wake.

Their shadows climbed their bodies.

Blackness covered their faces.

They remained.

The Dreamer looked toward Henderson.

“And you?”

Henderson adjusted his suit.

“What about me?”

“What do you desire?”

Henderson smiled brightly.

“Baby, I’m already living the dream.”

The Dreamer blinked.

Apparently, thousands of years of studying humanity had not prepared it for Charles Henderson.

A bark echoed through the hall.

Sasha stood in front of Bodhi.

Her tail rigid.

Teeth showing.

The Dreamer lowered itself toward her.

“My dear, sweet Sasha.”

A roasted turkey leg appeared in Rachel’s hand.

Large enough to feed a family.

Sasha’s ears lifted.

Her nose worked.

The Dreamer smiled.

“Surely there is something I can offer you.”

Sasha took one cautious step.

The turkey leg twitched.

Two small eyes opened.

The meat shrank.

Fur spread across it.

A large rat landed in the Dreamer’s palm.

It looked around.

Saw Rachel’s face.

“Filho da mãe!”

The rat bit the Dreamer’s thumb.

The Dreamer yelped.

The rat hit the floor running.

Sasha barked and gave chase beneath the tables.

Everyone watched.

Gene turned toward Kristy Lee.

“Did that rat just swear in Portuguese?”

“Jasper said the rats taught him.”

“I thought he was hallucinating.”

“So did Zelena.”

Sasha chased the rat through the legs of the kneeling villagers.

For one brief moment, her tail wagged like this was the finest day of her life.

Bodhi whistled.

“Sasha.”

She stopped.

Looked toward the fleeing rat.

Then returned reluctantly to Bodhi.

The Dreamer stared at the bite mark on Rachel’s thumb.

“I don’t understand.”

Gene shrugged.

“Welcome to our lives.”

The feast flickered.

Food rotted on silver platters.

Then became fresh again.

Music slowed.

Reversed.

Stopped.

The villagers huddled together.

Some clutched their goblets.

Others stared at the missing pieces of their bodies as if seeing the cost for the first time.

The Dreamer moved toward them.

“I can make you happy.”

Nobody cheered.

“I can give you everything you have ever wanted.”

A woman set down her goblet.

The Dreamer turned toward her.

“Drink.”

She looked at the cup.

Then pushed it away.

The goblet vanished.

So did the table in front of her.

The woman remained.

Terrified.

Incomplete.

Free.

Another villager dropped his bread.

Then another.

Tables disappeared throughout the hall.

The Dreamer spun toward me.

“You did this.”

“No.”

I stepped closer.

“You did.”

“I gave them paradise.”

“You gave them wanting.”

The Dreamer’s face shifted again.

Rachel.

Mama.

Nathan.

Marcus.

Jeb.

Every loss I carried.

Every face it thought could still control me.

“You need us,” I said.

“No.”

“You need us to believe.”

“I need nothing from you.”

“You needed our consent.”

The Dreamer’s expression cracked.

I continued.

“The knife only worked if I accepted it.”

“Stop.”

“The lives only worked if Bodhi and Gene accepted them.”

“Stop.”

“The feast only works while they keep eating.”

The villagers looked at one another.

More food hit the floor.

“And your Order only stays while they keep dreaming.”

Above us, projections vanished by the dozens.

Others began shaking.

One fell against the railing.

Its body dissolved, but its shadow remained.

The shadow screamed.

The Dreamer looked upward.

“No!”

The castle walls split.

Flowers turned black.

Vines crawled backward into the stone.

The crown slipped sideways against Rachel’s hair.

“Please.”

The word barely reached us.

The desperation behind it made my heart ache.

The Dreamer genuinely didn’t understand.

Why choose pain?

Why choose uncertainty?

Why choose reality when the lie offered everything?

Because pain shared with people you cared about was still better than paradise alone.

Because uncertainty left room for faith.

Because reality belonged to us.

The Dreamer didn’t.

“You can’t leave,” it whispered.

I looked toward Bodhi.

“You ready?”

He rested one hand on Sasha.

“Yes.”

Gene squeezed Kristy Lee’s hand.

“Absolutely.”

Henderson straightened his tie.

“I have a town to run.”

I turned toward the blank wall behind us.

The Dreamer laughed weakly.

“There is no door.”

The wall remained stone.

“You cannot create one.”

I placed my hand against it.

Cold.

Solid.

Real enough to stop us if we agreed it could.

Gene stepped beside me.

“Please tell me you’ve got another lunch-based miracle.”

“I’m working on it.”

“That doesn’t inspire confidence.”

I looked at the wall.

I didn’t need to create a door.

I didn’t need to become the Dreamer.

I only needed to leave.

“We’re done,” I said.

Bodhi stepped beside me.

“Yes.”

Gene nodded.

“Very.”

Kristy Lee joined him.

Henderson came last.

Sasha pressed her nose against the stone.

A narrow line appeared.

Light traced a rectangle through the wall.

The stone forgot how to be stone.

A plain wooden door stood in front of us.

Old hinges.

Brass knob.

Scratches near the bottom where generations of dogs had asked to be let through.

Gene stared.

“That was easier than it should’ve been.”

“It took all of us.”

“Still.”

The Dreamer screamed.

The sound shook the castle.

The door opened.

On the other side waited an ordinary basement.

Dirt floor.

Stone walls.

Wooden stairs leading upward.

The Farm.

Home.

Or close enough.

Bodhi went first with Sasha.

Kristy Lee followed.

Gene stepped through after her.

Henderson paused beside me.

“You coming?”

“In a minute.”

“That phrase has not worked out well for anyone today.”

“I’ll be right behind you.”

Henderson went through.

The Dreamer rose from the throne.

The crown fell from Rachel’s head.

“You cannot take them.”

Its body changed with every step.

Rachel.

A child.

An old man.

Something tall and faceless.

Rachel again.

“This is my world!”

Cold air moved through the banquet hall.

Not the false cold of the Dreamer’s beach.

Winter.

Clean.

Sharp.

A single white rose pushed through a crack in the black floor.

Then another.

John stood between the throne and the door.

No flash.

No thunder.

One moment the space was empty.

The next, he was there.

The Dreamer stopped.

Real fear entered Rachel’s face.

“You.”

John looked around the collapsing hall.

“Me.”

Shapes appeared behind him.

No names.

No introductions.

Some looked like men.

Some looked like women.

Some only pretended to look human.

Old friends gathering for unfinished work.

The surviving villagers stared.

A few began to cry.

The Dreamer backed toward the throne.

“You have no claim here.”

John looked toward the open door.

“They made their choice.”

His eyes returned to the Dreamer.

“I don’t need a claim.”

More white roses spread across the floor.

The remaining tables vanished.

The projected Order screamed as light tore through the balconies.

Some disappeared.

Some didn’t.

I looked at John.

“You coming?”

He smiled.

“Not yet.”

“You sure?”

John glanced at the figures gathering behind him.

“I brought friends.”

The Dreamer’s face twisted.

“This isn’t over.”

John looked almost amused.

“Maybe not.”

I wrapped my hand around the doorknob.

The Dreamer stared at me through Rachel’s eyes.

“You’ll dream again.”

“Probably.”

“I’ll be waiting.”

“Maybe.”

I stepped through the door.

Then looked back.

“But like any nightmare…”

The Dreamer’s castle folded inward.

“…you lost me the moment I woke up.”

I pulled the door closed.

The basement went quiet.

For one second, nothing happened.

Then something crashed against the other side.

“NO!”

Another crash.

A sound like an entire world breaking.

Then John laughed.

Warm.

Calm.

Not worried in the slightest.

I smiled.

Above me, the others crossed the farmhouse living room.

Sasha barked.

Gene shouted something about finding the minibar.

I took the stairs two at a time.

And followed my friends home.