I never let go of her hand as I led Paige back into the house, where a concerned Franco waited for us on the couch, confused and slightly frightened. We sat down beside him; my mind a scattered blur.        

       “What’s going on, Adara?”

       For years, I’ve kept my emotions in check when it came to my visions. I’ve had to cope many times using various remedies and have struggled with depression and anxiety throughout my younger years. I carried this burden with me, keeping quiet as each person I watched get hurt in my dreams would turn up the same way in real life. For nearly three decades I remained silent, but at that moment, when I looked into Franco’s concerning eyes and I felt Paige’s nervous perspiration soaking through my fingers, I felt the time was right, especially knowing Paige was involved and she was the one person I could not ignore. 

       “Ok, Franco, here it goes,” I took a deep breath as Paige sat on my lap, my arms wrapped tightly around her shivering body. “Ever since I was a little girl, around eight, I’ve had these dreams. Well, nightmares really. They were so vivid, so realistic. I would see…”

       I began to cry. Franco inched closer and put his arm around my shoulders. His consoling touch helped my quivering lips crack a mere resemblance of a smile.

       “It’s all right,” he assured me. “You can tell me.”

       “I witnessed their murders.” 

       “Whose?”

       “All of them. They all died and I did nothing to save them. I didn’t even try.”

       Confusion, or maybe even doubt, was written all over Franco’s face.

       “Franco, I have these…these dreams of people getting murdered, and then within days, sometimes even hours, those people turn up dead. I don’t know how I can see them, but I can…and I think Paige can too.”

       Paige sat there silent as Franco took all this new information in. It was hard to tell if he believed me or not, but I felt so liberated to finally get that monkey off my back.

       “Is this true, Paige?” Franco quietly asked her, as he gently placed his hand on her knee. “You can see the murders like your mother?”

       “She just saw the murder on the news.” I snapped at him, before softly asking my daughter. “Didn’t you, honey?”

       Paige was too distraught to answer.

       “Adara sweetie, there was no murder on the news,” Franco proclaimed to me. “Mrs. Doring called to let me know that the piece they did on my restaurant was finally airing.”
    
       “No,” I knew exactly what I saw, “Paige’s classmate, Eliza Crawford. Her body was just found. It was on the news! Didn’t you see it?”

       Paige began crying. 

       “Listen, baby,” Franco said to me without a doubt in his voice. “There weren’t any bodies found. It was the piece on my restaurant…you know, the one they did last week?” 

       His words were convincing, and maybe he was right, however I was one hundred percent sure what I saw moments earlier on the television and I knew that Paige had seen it too. I played back nearly every vision I had since I was eight years old before I finally realized what this all meant.

       “Do you know what this means?” I asked Paige, as her big green, watery eyes looked up at me. “It means she’s still alive. We can save her.”

       All my life I sat back, watching people die and do nothing to help them. Well those days are finished. I needed to save Eliza Crawford, if not for her family, but for myself…and especially for Paige. It was imperative she learned that this gift could be used for good.    

       “Paige, honey, go get your cell phone. I want you to call Eliza and make sure she’s okay.”

       Paige wiped the tears from her face and scurried up the stairs. 

       “Adara, it’s 11:15,” Franco pointed out. “Isn’t it a little bit late to be calling a fourteen year old on a school night?”

       It was, but I didn’t care. I needed to know if Eliza was still alive and I needed Paige to know as well. “I need you to trust me on this, Franco. Okay?”
    
       Paige rushed back into the living room, her cell phone clenched tight in her tiny hands. She looked at me for approval before dialing. “Put it on speaker.” I insisted. 

       Ring…Ring…Ring…

       “Hello,” a muffled, half sleeping child’s voice emanated from the telephone speaker. It was Eliza and the sound of her voice sent chills down my spine. She was alive. I motioned at Paige to say something to her.

        “Eliza? It’s Paige. Are you all right?”

        “Hey Paige,” Eliza replied; her voice was smothered by her pillow. “Yeah I’m fine. Are you all right?”

        “I am now. Sorry to wake you up. I’ll see you in the morning.”

        As Paige hung up the phone, a gigantic sense of relief engulfed the room. We knew who the next victim would be, the questions that burned my mind was when and why.

        The next morning, when I dropped Paige off at school, I warned her, “Be careful, sweetie. Don’t trust anyone and keep your phone close. Call me if something looks unsettling.”

        “Should I tell Eliza?” she wondered.
 

        “No, you don’t want to frighten her. Just keep your eyes open for anything that may be suspicious.”

        I embraced Paige tighter than the day she was born. I felt a newfound connection with her and although it scared me a little that I passed such a damning gift to my only child, it also made me very proud.

        “I love you so much, honey.”

        “I love you too, mom.”

        As I watched Paige run up to the school with her friends, I reached for my cell phone and immediately hit speed dial number four: Methra.

        “Good morning, Adara,” she answered promptly.

        “Good morning, Methra. Listen, I need you to do me a favor. Can you please find out anything you can on Esperanza Flores and have it ready by the time I get into the office?”

        “Flores?”

        “Yes, Nona’s sister. I was hoping I could maybe bring her into the office for a session.”

        “Sure thing, Adara,” Methra assured. She was always on the ball and I knew I could count on her for anything.

        After thanking Methra, I hung up the phone and drove a couple miles in silence before pulling in to Starbucks for my daily dose. As I maneuvered through the winding drive-thru, my phone rang. It was Methra.

        “Hello.”

        “Esperanza Flores is dead,” Methra blurted out. “Her body was discovered this morning, similar to the way Nona’s body was found. There was a sign around her neck and everything.”

        I almost fainted, as I stopped a few feet short of the order window. “What did the sign say?”

        “Thou shalt not commit adultery,” Methra stated. “It’s all over the news. Apparently, she was having an affair with Miguel Sanchez and detectives are speculating that she may have been involved in the murder of his wife and kid.”

        I was at a loss for words. I tried to speak but my thoughts remained trapped in my head. I just spoke to her last night. Eliza's the next victim, not Esperanza. She can't be, I never saw her die. Methra continued on but I had already stopped listening. A strident honk interrupted my daydreaming, as the ever-growing line of caffeine junkies quickly became irritated behind me.

********************************************************
    
        The tardy bell sounded as Paige and her classmates shuffled to their seats. Paige sat three seats behind Eliza and one row closer to the door. She removed her cell phone from her book bag and after putting it on vibrate, hid it underneath a Hannah Montana folder on the corner of her desk so she could easily get to it if something went down.  

        During Sister Maureen’s Morning Prayer, Eliza peeked back at Paige, making eye contact with her. Eliza was certainly curious as to the purpose of Paige’s late night call and was sure to inquire about it before the day was up.  

        Less than a minute after Sister Maureen finished the prayer with a boisterous “Amen”, Father Preston’s voice blared over the loud speaker.

        “Attention students: Eliza Crawford and Paige Davis please come to my office…and bring your bags.”