The riverbank is quiet. Too quiet. Alice sits with her back against the old willow, Dinah a warm weight in her lap, purring like a distant storm. The water moves past without hurry. She traces patterns in the dirt with her finger — circles within circles, like the ripples in the pool of tears she swam through what feels like a lifetime ago. She doesn't jump when the grin appears in the reeds. It's just there — a floating crescent of teeth, sharp and white, hung in the air like a slice of moon misplaced in the afternoon. No cat. No body. Just the smile. 'You've returned,' she says. Her voice is steady. She is not the girl who tumbled down the hole anymore. The grin widens. 'And you've stayed.' The words seem to come from everywhere and nowhere. 'I heard the world above is coughing again. Something in the air. They call it a plague.' Alice frowns. 'A disease?' 'A panic,' the Cat's voice corrects. 'Much the same thing. The Queen would have their heads for it. But the thing about plagues...' The grin flickers, dims, then brightens again. '...is they pass. Like bad weather. Like Wonderland's logic. You just wait.' Dinah flicks an ear. Alice presses her palm flat against the damp earth. 'And if you can't wait?' 'Then you learn to breathe through it.' The grin starts to fade. 'Or you learn to see what's real through the fever.' It hangs for one more heartbeat — sharp, knowing, impossibly present. Then it's gone. The reeds rustle. A bird calls. Alice looks down at Dinah's steady green eyes. She runs her hand over the cat's warm fur. The river keeps flowing. She sits there a long time after the smile has vanished, waiting to see if anything else appears.