A presence nearby. Not threatening, but insistent.
Vivienne touched the silver stone. The temperature dropped a few degrees. She caught the scent of salt water and old wood.
Harbor,a voice whispered. More feelings than words.Soon. Watch.
The presence faded. Her pendant cooled.
Brooks appeared at her elbow. “You okay? You went pale.”
“Someone just warned me. A spirit. Something about the harbor.” Vivienne shook her head. “It wasn’t threatening. Just cautioning me to watch.”
“Watch for what?”
“I don’t know. The message wasn’t clear.” She finished the tourists’ order. “It might be related to that 1987 case. Or something new.”
“Want me to increase patrols around the harbor?”
“Not yet. Let me meditate on it tonight.” Vivienne handed the tourists their tea. “Sometimes spirits give advance warning. This felt like that.”
Brooks looked troubled but nodded. “Let me know what you find out. And Vivienne? Don’t investigate alone. We handle it together.”
“Together,” she agreed.
After the shop closed, Vivienne retreated to her reading room at the back. The small sanctuary lay hidden behind an ancient tapestry depicting phases of the moon. She cast a protective circle, lit candles, and prepared her scrying bowl.
She filled the obsidian bowl with blessed water. Three drops of rosemary oil. A pinch of mugwort. A single drop of her blood.
“Show me what you’re trying to tell me,” she whispered.
The water’s surface rippled. For a moment nothing came through—then images flooded her mind.
The harbor at night. A woman walking along the docks, her coat pulled tight against wind. She paused, looking over her shoulder. Then she turned toward the water.
Not a memory. A future event.
The vision shifted. The same woman, struggling in deep water. Hands reaching for her, pulling her down.
Vivienne gasped and pulled back. Her pendant burned against her skin.
Someone was going to die at the harbor. Soon. And the spirits were warning her in time to prevent it.
She grabbed her phone and called Brooks.
“I need you to come over. Now. I saw something.”
He arrived within ten minutes. Vivienne had the grimoire open on her kitchen table, cross-referencing symbols from the vision with her grandmother’s notes.
“Tell me,” Brooks said.
She did. The vision, the warning, the urgency that had only grown stronger.
“When?” Brooks pulled out his notebook.
“I don’t know. Soon. Days, maybe. Or tonight.” Vivienne traced a symbol in the grimoire. “My grandmother wrote about prophetic warnings. They usually come one to three days before an event.”
“Description of the woman?”
“Thirties. Dark hair. Navy coat. I’d recognize her.” Vivienne met his eyes. “This is different from the visions about Lily and Melissa. Those were echoes. This is the future trying to warn us.”
