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“No!” My response is too strong and too fast, but I can’t help it. “No offense, Nathan, but I don’t like you.”
“Why would that offend me?” he asks, voice dark.
“I’d rather be with Cole. Is that okay, Sadie?”
She doesn’t answer.
“Is it?”
“She’s nodding,” Eden says. “Sweetie, you’ve got to remember to say yes or no. Okay. I feel like we should have a team cheer or something.” She pulls me into a hug and I squeeze her as tight as I can.
“Take care of yourself,” she says.
“You, too.”
Adam gives me a quick hug, and then Rafael gives me a much less quick hug. “Are you sure?” he whispers against my ear.
“I’m sure. I owe it to Sadie.”
“Okay. I’ll see you soon.”
“Let’s get going,” Cole says. He takes my elbow and the three of us walk out of the room.
I try to broach the subject as casually as I can while Cole is out buying food and supplies. “Hey, Sadie, you want the first shower?” It’s been a week since we left Rafael and co., and we’ve been traveling in a random pattern, never deciding beforehand where we’ll go. Cole wants to give us a few weeks of unpredictability before we settle at a safe house.
Sadie has not showered once.
I’ve tried to draw her out into conversation to no avail. She’s like traveling with a ghost. A ghost with BO.
“I can’t,” she whispers.
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t have my gloves.”
I frown. “You need gloves for the shower?”
“I can’t touch myself.”
“I’m sorry. I really don’t understand.”
“When I touch myself, I see things. It hurts. I don’t want to see them. I had shower gloves at home, so I wasn’t touching my own skin. It’s not as bad as when I touch other people, but it’s still too much.”
I sit on the bed across from her. “Wait, you see things when you touch people?”
“Yes.”
“So when I touched your face . . .”
“She killed you.” Sadie moves closer, her voice getting more intense. “She killed you—I saw it. And then that other girl, the one who looks like you, killed her. The things I see, they never change. Never. So how come you’re not dead?”
I smile sadly. “That other girl? She’s my sister. Fia has a way of changing things. She can’t help it. Nothing’s ever set in stone where Fia’s concerned.”
“So your visions . . .”
I shrug. “They aren’t always right. Sometimes I see them wrong. Sometimes they change.”
“It’s not fate, then. What you see.” Hope lightens her voice, just a bit.
