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“Two hours,” Mom says, her voice shaking.
“What was that?” Dad hisses, and I rear back in a panic when the door before me swings open.
Tears sting my eyes as my parents crowd the doorway. It’s been seven years since I’ve seen them. Since…the accident.
I swallow thickly, trying to come up with something to say to them, but they’re not looking at my face. No, their eyes are trained downward, toward my thighs, as they plaster forced smiles on their faces.
“Eden, honey, what are you doing out of bed?” Mom asks, dropping to a knee and lifting her hand.
She twists her wrist like she’s petting something, and I shuffle back a few steps.
Back to bed with you, doodle bug.
“Back to bed with you, doodle bug,” Dad says, echoing the memory that’s flashing through my mind.
I remember this. I was five, and I’d had a bad dream. I left my room to find my parents, and I heard them talking in their bedroom. I don’t remember understanding their conversation, I just wanted to get to them and make sure they were safe.
Because in my dream, they were dead. Crushed inside twisted, hot metal before the blast of an explosion woke me.
My hand flies up to cover the sob threatening to spill from my lips. It was a premonition. I saw their deaths seventeen years before it happened.
“Eden.”
The hallway evaporates, and all I can see are Jesse’s concerned eyes staring into mine. I blink a few times, and his tense expression melts into one of relief.
“There you are,” he breathes.
“Where are we?” I ask, twisting my head back and forth to view my surroundings.
I’m lying on my back, outside of the car, and I can feel the sharp points of pine needles poking into my ankles. I can see a thick swath of forest on one side of me and the road on the other.
“Erik pulled over as soon as you blacked out. We got you out of the car just to be safe. You were flailing around and almost hit Steph in the face.
“Oh, no. Steph?” I call out, and Jesse moves away so she can lean over me.
“I’m fine,” she says. “Are you okay? You were calling out for your mom and dad.”
I sit up in a rush, and Jesse immediately moves back in to steady me as I wobble to the side. I take a moment to gain my bearings, then motion for Jesse to help me to my feet. He lifts me easily, and I see Erik hovering nearby, so I wave him closer.
“I saw my parents,” I say once they’re crowded around me. “The vision was a memory from when I was about five. They were talking about me in their bedroom, though at the time, I didn’t understand what they were saying.”
“And now?” Steph asks.
“Mom was talking about a premonition I’d had earlier in the day. She didn’t say the exact words, but I put the pieces together. She was worried about the bonds suppressing my magic. That they were loosening, and someone might come for me.”
“What?” Steph gasps, taking an involuntary step backward.
I swallow against the lump in my throat as I nod at her. “My adoptive parents were witches, and they’re the ones who bound my magic.”
20
IMPOSSIBLE
“Are you certain you understood?” Steph asks, her voice rising an octave. “Aunt Bernie said visions can be easy to misinterpret.”
“There was nothing to misinterpret, Steph. Dad said they had to remember why they did what they did to keep me safe. Then Mom started talking about people coming for me. That she was afraid because I predicted the mailman would be late, and he was. By two hours. Then five-year-old me must’ve made a sound, because they cut off their conversation and opened the door and talked to her.”
“I…can’t believe it. They were witches?” Steph asks, awe lacing the words.
