THE FIRST THING she noticed that morning was the<br > Christmas decorations.<br > Walking the picturesque， sleepy block from the ba-<br > gel place to her shop， Abby wondered how many little<br > Oxnard elves it had taken to bring about the festive<br > transformation since she d left work the evening be-<br > fore. Someone in this small coastal town just north<br > and a little west of Los Angeles had been way too<br > busy. She could hardly believe what she was seeing.<br > It wasn t even Thanksgiving yet， and smiling plastic<br > Santas were flapping in the breeze.<br > Perhaps they were fitting， those reminders of the<br > upcoming holidays. They d appeared like magic--<br > but， then， people who believed in Santa Claus be-<br > lieved in magic， and usually in dreams， too.<br > Abby s dream was about to come true.<br > It just wasn t her dream anymore. It never had been<br > hers. It had always been their dream. She and her<br >sisters. All three of them. Together. From the moment<br >of their conception t~ ey d been together. Shared ev-<br >erything. The dream had been no different.<br > But the other two were gone now. One dead. And<br >one so unreachable she almost felt dead to Abby.<br >Two-thirds of the dream was dead.<br ><br >