Dara, Page, and the Secrets of the Multiverse

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Dara sniffed, flattening her palm against the top of her summer hat. The wind hasn't let up since earlier, threatening to rip it from her head. What was the matter with this weather? It was as if it couldn't decide if it wanted to rain or to squeeze every droplet of moisture off her skin.

Her luggage's wheels thundered across the loose planks of the rotting bridge. Her goal was the lone cabin in the middle of a lake. Already, she could smell the earthy scent rolling off the still water. No ripples reflected from the surface. Even as the leaves detached from their branches and fluttered towards the glassy landscape, the lake simply cradled them like poisonous babies.

A stabbing pain rose from her ankles. Ugh. She shouldn't have worn heels.

She shouldn't be here, if not for the mess the past few days had been. Her uncle told her about this hidden retreat in an obscure part of the country. Pearly Lake Cabin, he called it. Dara understood the reference. The tourist website said the lake had a species of clams whose cousins thrived in open seas. And they produce pearls, which were harvested and transformed into jewelry. Some of those were sold in the antique store at the town's entrance.

But the main reason she was out here was because her uncle told her the cabin would cure a broken heart. And she has one, so they'd see the results in three days. Her uncle promised her she'd get a nice massage blowout if she proved him wrong. Oh, the fight was on.

It wasn't even something big. No. She broke up with her boyfriend after learning he had been cheating with a chick years younger than her for as long as their relationship lasted. And he wasn't even sorry. When Dara confronted him about it, he crossed his arms and scoffed. "You won't understand it," he claimed.

Of course, Dara wouldn't. How could anyone cheat at their partner and then wonder why they were breaking up with them? Bonkers, that wanker. Her girl friends had to drag her out of the cafe before her temper flared up and she cussed the ego out of the poor man.

Not that she was glad for it. The reason for this retreat was because she didn't get to say what she should have, and it has been eating her up from the inside. It was a messy breakup, and she would give everything she had just to turn back time to that moment. Maybe she'd tell her ex how much of a dick he was or maybe she'd ask back all the things she bought him.

Nevertheless, after the fifth carton of cookies-n-cream in only an afternoon and the fourth rewatch of Pride and Prejudice in a span of a week, her uncle barged into her apartment and issued an intervention.

"It's a resthouse in the middle of nowhere." Her uncle's words floated at the back of her head as a surly memory. Looking back, she should have stopped him there. "It's far enough away from the city. Go there to relax. Unwind. You'll forget about him in no time."

Yeah, no shit. Dara had spent a mind-numbing six hours on transit, changing vehicles and type of road at least four times, lost one of her summer sandals to the sea, and was forced to drag her luggage and frilly dress across blistering heat, countryside quagmire, and thorny branches just to get to a damp cabin in the middle of a drab lake.