Chapter Two: Number Fourteen in the Dream

By seven, the news was calling it immersive marketing. Forty-seven midnight patrons posted the same dream. Each walked down Oak Street looking for Number Thirteen but found only even-numbered houses. A screen hung from the tree at the end, showing them still seated inside the cinema. Some woke with mud on their shoes. Others found a black photograph on their phones. Advance sales tripled. Lin placed the brass tack in a glass. It matched the missing hole in the oval mirror onscreen. Two tiny letters were engraved on its head: S.Q. Shen Qing. Her mother. The screenplay contained ninety-seven yellowed pages held by clean staples. In the darkroom scene, a penciled note had been added: XIAOMAN SHOULD TURN HERE AND SEE HER SISTER.