“It’s a hard truth to hear like this, and we’ll spend as much time as you need to work through it later, but for now you have to trust me. Please, Rebecca. Choose his future! It might already be too late.”
My hands tremble, and I have to grip the bed frame for support.
“Why do you think we recruited you so heavily?” he continues. “Why do you think we’ve pushed and pulled you since you arrived? Your gifts are astronomical in their potential. If anyone needed to learn to control them, it was you. Why do you think your mother was so afraid of you?”
“No! I would have known before now. She would have told me!”
“Really? Do you think she wanted you to know you had that kind of power? At least if you didn’t know, your imagined futures were rare and accidental. You see the past and use your perceptions to shape the future. Your fantasy becomes their reality.”
Daniel’s heated speech comes flooding back. This is the secret he thought I hid from him, maybe even planned to use against him in my own sick game. But he’d been wrong for possibly the first time in his life. Then, a more unspeakable thought grips me.
Maybe this isn’t a coincidence at all. Maybe in his own twisted way he arranged his overdose to be a final blow to Clausen’s plans. After all, who knew when I would have learned the truth about my abilities? Maybe never. Maybe he’d known they would keep the awful secret and use me like they used him for most of his life. With his last act, Daniel forced their hand one finaltime, thwarting them even in his death. It’s definitely more in line with everything I’ve learned about him than the sudden bout of ignorance I originally suspected. Maybe our last conversation wasn’t a fight, but a goodbye the only way he knew how.
My heart shatters, and I kneel beside him again, gripping his hand and studying his still features. I close my eyes and search for any sign of him, however faint. Tears blur my eyes and I hear myself pleading in the distance, begging him to come back. But there’s only darkness in my here and now. The frustrating, terrifying void of his absence.
Seconds that feel like hours.
Air that feels like cement.
I’m completely lost and sharply focused on one objective all at once.
Until—a flicker.
I gasp and hold tighter, concentrating with every fiber of my being. Another flash, then another. And then… I cry out and fall back, weak from the strain.
“What is it?” Clausen asks. “Did you see something?”
I nod through my tears, unable to speak. I still don’t know if I can believe what Clausen just said about my abilities, but for now I’ll accept anything if it means seeing Daniel alive again.
“Yes, I saw something,” I whisper.
Clausen blinks, moisture collecting at the corners of his eyes. “What was it? The future? He’s alive?”
I nod. “It wasn’t a clear vision,” I lie, “but it was definitely the future.”
A sigh lifts from the room, and a nurse reads the monitors.
“He’s stable,” he says, and the beautiful murmur of relief echoes around us. “We’ll keep a close eye on him. This is incredible.”
Incredible? No. Horrifying. My worst nightmare.
I manage to steady myself enough to return to Daniel’s side. “May I stay with him?”
Clausen rests his hand on my shoulder and squeezes. “You did well. Thank you, Rebecca. Take as much time as you want.” He motions to the others who follow him from the room as soon as they complete their tasks.
Once Daniel and I are alone, I press his hand to my lips. I don’t need visions to determine the details about his attempt. He overdosed. Of course he did. They made him a drug-addict, and he’s lived under the label for half his life. It only makes sense that he’d give them the ending they deserved.
But something prevented his final victory. I can’t believe it was me, and I wonder if he’ll be forgiving or vindictive when he wakes from his hard-fought death. He failed again. No doubt the life that follows will be even more unbearable to him as his captors take extreme measures to protect their mission’s heartbeat. But they don’t know—he doesn’t know—what I saw in that fleeting moment. Did I create it?
Chills run down my spine, and I trace the tattoos on his arm, hoping for sleep to take me also.
Daniel flinches.
At first I think I bumped his arm after drifting off, but it moves again.
“Daniel?”
Nothing, and I lean over him, willing him to wake up. I’m afraid to touch him if he’s awake, however, terrified of possibilities I still can’t accept. After another moment, his eyelids flutter open and he squints into the light. My heart soarswhen he scans the sterile room, and I clasp my hands to keep from smothering him.
