Three years shy of two decades, Rebecca's life after the attack has changed only in ways that remain invisible to the people she knows. Truth be told, she's not close enough with anyone that she'd be able to open up about it. The closest she came to disclosing her inner turmoil was when she struck up a conversation with a customer (the only one for three weeks) and unintentionally confessed that she was afraid of being unattractive and dying alone. She's had this worry ever since she turned forty, and now it's six years past that point, which rounded up indicates that her life is half over. This discussion seemed to make the customer uncomfortable, and she left shortly after.

Rebecca does not have any friends, and come to think of it, she didn't have that many as a human, either. None that would still be willing to put up with her as a dinosaur, anyway. Maybe they were never really her friends at all. Well, except for Bo, but he was gone, so there was no use in dwelling on their relationship.

Rebecca prefers to block out painful memories. It's what's gotten her through these confusing times. There are moments when she's not sure what to think, because while this whole "dinosaur acceptance" movement is still leftist nonsense in her opinion, she can't help but feel that she's seeing things differently, now that she's a dinosaur herself. She tries to justify her need to be treated well by the fact that she's a human in a dinosaur's body, but she has moments of doubt. Even so, she can't back down after spending her entire life fighting for one specific cause.

One night, as she lay tossing and turning in bed, Rebecca had a dream . . . only, it didn't feel like a dream, because she knew she was only half asleep, and the vision playing in her mind was being called up consciously. If anything, this was a memory shown through the filter of a half-dream, and if it was a memory, it was real.

Rebecca remembered being in a barn. She was chewing on something that had a bitter-bland flavor. When she reached for another mouthful, she found that there was none left. She looked around with a blank stare, but her segment of the stable was devoid of food or enrichment. She only had room to turn, in fact, and she had to bend her tail to do it.

But then she heard a gentle clink. She peeked over the gate of her stall and saw a blue dinosaur with an armored back chewing on her lock. Maybe not chewing. He was doing something, anyway. The little latch was in his mouth, and he seemed to be fiddling with it. Rebecca couldn't care less, since he had no food, but then, he lifted a peg out of the metal piece, and her door swung open gently. She lumbered out, looking for something to eat, but the other dinosaur grunted to get her attention. She turned and looked into his eyes- eyes that the human part of her recognized- and something hidden deep inside her dinosaur mind urged her to follow him. So she did.

It was cold out, which was an unfortunate side effect of the beautiful landscape. The winter scene sparkled with snow so cold that it burned, and Rebecca wanted to return to her stall, but the strange dinosaur moaned, his breath coming out in a cloud that was extra visible against the dark outline of the forest near the ranch. She continued to tail him.

When they reached a river that was still flowing despite the winter weather, the dinosaur stopped. He lay on his stomach, nestled peacefully in the snow. Rebecca stood beside him. When she followed his gaze, she saw a weeping willow on the hill across from them. It sparkled with tiny droplets of ice, glowing in the light of a full moon. She wasn't sure why, but this tree gave her comfort. She sat beside the dinosaur, and they stared up at the frosty branches with eyes that seemed fuller than usual.

Rebecca drew in a sharp breath and sat up in bed with wide eyes. She started shaking.

It was Bo. She knew it was Bo. There was no other explanation.

Part of her wanted to believe she was mistaken. Another part wanted to trust in this story so fiercely that it struggled to prove it for certain. This side won, though she wasn't sure how to feel about this revelation. Should she be happy that they had shared one last moment together, even if neither of them was fully aware of their circumstances? Bo must have remembered her on a subconscious level, which meant he didn't die hating her. This brought her great joy, but also made her feel selfish and guilty. She tried to will herself back into that dreamworld so she could communicate with him, but obviously it was a moment long-passed, and that would be impossible. She began to feel even more ridiculous when she realized that she ought to be wishing herself back to her human body, but somehow, this memory she had only just recalled felt more existent than life itself. But she returned to her dark room, shivering beneath thin blankets and shaking tears from her eyelids. She hugged her knees and began to sob.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I killed you. It was my fault . . ."

She sniffed.

"My fault."

If she had neighbors, she was sure they would hear her high-pitched hiccoughs, but she didn't really care at the moment. She kept thinking about that last tender moment she'd shared with the man she loved, and despised herself for not waking up and realizing how much it should have meant to her . . . how much he should have meant to her. He was the only person she could ever trust, and she could count on his support even when she was completely in the wrong. But she'd kicked him around like some useless animal and betrayed him when he needed her most. And he'd never know how much she loved him. His last memories of her would be tainted by the betrayal she had never apologized for.

With a frantic sniffle, Rebecca leapt out of bed and grabbed her scarf. She pattered down the stairs and galloped out the front door, shivering in the cold, winter air. She stood on the sidewalk, beak trembling. She wasn't sure what she had planned to do, but gradually, it began to snow, and she was flooded with more memories- direct ones, this time. She closed her eyes and remembered the gentle, yellow glow of shop windows as she passed them with Bo by her side. She remembered the scarf he'd bought for her, which she was still wearing, and how warm it made her feel, though her glasses were fogged and her fingers numb. She remembered their walk through the park, how he'd carved her name into a rock beneath an old willow. She opened her eyes.

She ran down the road, breath puffing out like a train's chimney. Her feet thumped on the snow-caked concrete, slipping where it was icy, but getting a grip on packed frost. She ran until she reached the park, then traveled a massive distance, crossing bridges and passing gazebos. The whole time, she feared she would never reach the tree, and if it wasn't there, she would have no way of knowing if any of it was real.

But then she saw it.

She skidded to a stop, staring at the hanging branches, and saw the ghosts of herself and Bo standing beneath it. She remembered exactly how he looked when he'd knelt down to carve their names. She had glanced over her shoulder nervously, telling him they'd get in trouble if they were caught, but he refused to carve just their initials, since he hated his. When he stood up, she saw "Bo" and "Becky" engraved into the stone, and stuck out her tongue. She knew he called her that just to piss her off. He smiled with abnormally white teeth, then stood up on his tiptoes to give her a kiss. He never seemed to mind being shorter than her. How could he, when he was so in love that he'd never find a reason to be spiteful?

Rebecca ran over to a lump in the snow. She almost wanted to leave it covered, but when she brushed off a thick layer of powder, sure enough, their names were still on that same rock. She stared at it for a moment, biting her beak, then collapsed over the boulder and started crying. Her tears ran down the curved, rough surface, filling in the letters, which she was alarmed to see were starting to wear away. With time, every bit of evidence that Bo had been alive and had loved her would be gone.

She was so upset that she didn't hear the sound of hooves until they were directly behind her. She turned and saw a hybrid on a horse- an old man by the looks of it- whose face was pulled into the permanent, frightening grimace of a human-carnivore. She was terrified by the sight of him, and the badge on his shoulder only made matters worse. Surprisingly, his expression became one of concern.

"Are you okay, Ma'am?"

She whimpered.

"I . . . I was . . . I wanted to know if the rock was still here."

He leaned forward on his horse, smiling jovially.

"Well, well, well. It looks like I finally caught the bandit who vandalized public property so many years ago."

"I didn't-"

"Relax, honey, I'm joking. I wouldn't take you in for something you did over a decade ago. I always wondered about that rock. Did you dull your knife trying to cut through it?"

She sniffled.

"I- I wasn't the one who wrote on the- on the rock. It was- It was my boyfriend."

Slowly, the corners of the officer's mouth sagged. He exhaled, eyes warm with understanding.

"You know, I don't think anyone would notice if that rock went missing."

Rebecca batted her eyes.

"Are you saying- But you're supposed to be guarding this park!"

She thought about it.

"Is it because I'm a dinosaur?"

He shook his head.

"No, that'd be ridiculous. I don't hand out favors to people who look like me. What matters is what's inside, and I think a great deal of us have lost someone we loved dearly. If you need this, I won't deny you your closure."

Rebecca gulped and nodded slowly.

"Thank you."

"Don't worry about it. Get inside soon, okay? It's mighty cold out."

He led his horse away, but tugged on the reins gently after a few paces.

"Do you need help carrying it?"

She shook her head.

"No, I'm big enough."

He grinned.

"Alright. See you around."

She smiled faintly and turned to dig out the rock. When the dirt around it was mostly torn apart (it was frozen in clumps), she lifted the stone onto her back and carried it to the city. As she rounded a corner, she bumped into her old lawyer, of all people. She gave a startled moo, and he dropped his groceries. She bent down to help gather them, and he looked like his mind had just shattered into a million pieces.

"Miss Glass? . . ."

"I'm sorry. I didn't see you. It's been a while, hasn't it?"

"I suppose . . ."

"You don't usually run into the same person twice in this city. How have you been?"

"Fine . . ."

She gathered up the last of his things.

"Sorry again. I hope nothing broke. Why were you getting groceries so late, if you don't mind me asking?"

"The kids ate all the food in the house while I was out with my wife."

Rebecca's eyes went wide.

"You got married?"

"Always was."

She blinked several times, trying to put the pieces together.

"But you said- I mean, I thought- the way you talked about the jury-"

He sighed.

"Listen, I know you normals can't tell the difference, but if you talk to a lawyer on the job, you're probably not gonna get the truth out of him."

She gazed at him with wonderment.

"I find it really hard to imagine you as a family man."

"I assume that's because of my looks, not my talent for fibbing, but I choose to believe the latter."

Rebecca bit her lower beak, then took a deep breath.

"I never thanked you."

"For what?"

"Winning my trial. You saved my life."

"It was my job."

"I know, but . . . I don't think it was easy for you. I didn't make it easy, anyway. I don't think any less of you for defending a person like me."

He shrugged.

"Well, none of that matters when you have three kids to feed. Can't imagine what hell I'm in for once the fourth gets here."

"Oh, are you expecting?"

"Mhm. The Mrs. is due in February."

"Congratulations! Girl or boy?"

"We decided to leave it as a surprise. I'm hoping for boy."

"Well, let me know when you find out!"

She realized what she was saying.

"I mean . . . You don't have to . . . You don't . . ."

"I still have your number. If all else fails, I'll just pop into the library."

She met his gaze.

"Thank you."

"Don't thank me," he said with a smile, "I'm paid to be nice to people I hate. Anyway, have a good evening, and Merry Christmas!"

Rebecca nodded.

"Merry Christmas."

She carried her rock back to the library. Once inside, she washed it off and dried it with her best towel before placing it below the front desk. She wanted to see it as much as possible.

Over the next few months, she made a vow to change her way of thinking. For once, she was ready to make a conscious effort to be a better person, and that meant accepting those she'd usually dismiss based on their looks alone. She got used to speaking to hybrids in public areas, and though their faces still frightened her, she was able to conceal her discomfort so well that she might as well have been species-blind. It got to the point where she felt she was ready to face unusual customers, and one rainy day, she did just that. She was sitting at the front desk when the door swung open, making the bell dance violently on its hook. A hideous saurian stepped through the front door, and her exposed teeth made Rebecca's stomach flip. She stared at the girl's matted hair and yellow sclera, and realized they were making eye contact. She struggled to come up with a kind phrase that would cancel out her horrified stare, proving once and for all that she had changed.

"You're all wet."

Meh. Close enough.

The End