When I was a little girl, I had nightmares. I'd wake up and run to my parents. My father would get angry. "Go back to bed. Face your fears." My grandfather was different. He told me stories about Kuzuri, his friend. Who he met at the bottom of a well. He said the Kuzuri was magical and saved his life. He said Kuzuri would save me, too, as I slept in my bed.