Page 63 of The Final Storm
There’s a moment of silence, and I swear I hear Sam grind his teeth together. “I don’t want her out of my sight-”
“Caleb’s coming by to escort us,” Lori stops him.
“She wanted to talk to you about something,” Sam argues. “Just give her to me.”
“Morning,” I croak. Footsteps head in my direction. Lori’s holding Morgan, giving her a bottle, which she eagerly sucks down. I reach my hands out to hold her, and she hands her over.
“I need to talk to both of you,” I say. I crane my neck to check on the boys.
“They’re asleep,” Lori answers my unasked question. “I’ll shut the door.”
“Another vision?” Sam asks.
“Yes, but I want to talk about the attack.”
They both knowingly look at each other, and when Lori turns back, she stares at the floor.
“What?” I ask. “Do you have something to tell me?”
Lori rocks on her heels and gives Sam a sideways glance.
Sam comes and sits on the bed, playing with the heel of Morgan’s foot. She drinks faster when he touches her, curling her toes into his finger.
“They’ve finished the case against Cecilia,” Sam says. He’s smart to keep a hand on Morgan, knowing I won’t scream or lash out.
“It’s been less than a day?” I hiss. “That’s not possible.”
Sam stiffens, knowing I won’t like what he’s about to say. “She has a full alibi for every minute.”
“She orchestrated it, but she didn’t do it,” I argue. “Do you remember Lindell, from the Thalassa?”
“Yes,” Lori answers. Sam takes a moment, his eyes shifting between Lori and myself, then nods. “Matthews’ man. I remember.”
“And Dean’s man,” I remind him.
Lori bristles at the sound of his name. “Did you see Lindell in a vision?”
“Yes,” I answer. “I’m not sure when it is.” I open my jaw and shut it, thinking of how to explain this to Sam. Lori sees my struggle and taps him on the shoulder.
“Your wife now sees things from the past, too. Things, if you ask me-” she touches her chest and widens her eyes, “-she pushed away when she refused to give in to her premonitions.”
“What kinds of things?” he asks and stands up.
The eyes Lori gives me make my heart thud in my ears. I give her a warning look, and she bites her lip and scratches the back of her neck.
Sam raises his hands to his hips. “Do I want to know?”
“No,” we say in unison.
“You’re becoming twins like those two,” Sam mocks, pointing to the other room.
“But we’re scarier,” Lori mocks.
“I’m terrified of everyone in this room. Even this one,” he points to Morgan.
“I saw Lindell and Dean in a vision that’s very recent,” I explain.
“That red-headed son-of-a-bitch,” Lori sneers, touching the line of her stitches.
