The croquet ground sprawled before her like a fever dream. Soldiers bent into hoops, their painted faces frozen in grimaces of discomfort. Hedgehogs scurried in unpredictable paths, and flamingos squawked indignantly whenever someone grabbed them by the legs. Alice stood at the edge, her hands clenched at her sides. She could still hear her sister's voice, soft and steady from a morning that felt a lifetime away: "Be brave, Alice. Not because you aren't afraid, but because the world needs people who step forward anyway." She loosened her fists. The memory was a stone in her pocket—small, but real. The Queen's voice cut across the lawn like a blade. "Off with her head!" Alice flinched, but did not look back. She had learned that looking back only gave the Queen more satisfaction. Instead, she watched the Cheshire Cat's grin materialize in the branches of a nearby tree, floating like a taunt. "Well, well," it said, its voice dripping with amusement. "Still here? Most people run." "Most people don't have a sister who told them to stay," Alice replied, her voice steadier than she felt. The grin widened. "Then by all means, stay. But do try to keep your head. It's such a lovely one." Alice took a step forward onto the croquet ground. The grass felt wrong beneath her feet—too soft, like walking on a held breath. A soldier-hoop nearby trembled as she passed, and she heard its whispered plea: "Please don't trip. She'll blame me." "I won't trip," Alice said softly. "And if she tries, I'll tell her the truth." The soldier's painted eyes widened in disbelief. "The truth? In Wonderland?" Alice didn't answer. She just kept walking, her blue dress brushing against the wilting grass, her sister's voice still echoing in her chest. Ahead, the Queen raised her flamingo mallet and pointed it directly at Alice. The game was about to begin. And for the first time, Alice wasn't running.