"Nine out of ten is pretty good right?" The woman's slurred voice came from the lounge.
"Most don't even get one but I had nine born dreamwalkers! Why should I even care about that useless one?" Jessica laughed humorlessly and choked back a sob. "I mean, how pathetic would that be?"
The lounge was empty aside from the bartender who'd grown used to Lady Monroe's excessive drinking. He was fairly certain he was the only person who knew that she'd given birth to ten children. As well as the only person to know who and what happened to this missing child.
"Imrie, my youngest daughter! She was so pretty too, kind and smart! If only she'd been a dreamwalker, if only I'd faught harder!" She sobbed. "Mommy is so sorry!"
To be fair, her husband would say the same thing when hammered as well. Cursing his own mother due to her insistence on sending her away. They don't seem to realize that their daughter is easily within arms reach.
A simple phone call and they'd have their child once more.
Of course, Imrie would never see this side of them. Nor could she remember even a touch of care that came from their hands.