Page 12 of Don’t Open Your Eyes

“Thank you for the generous offer, but it’s not only about the tuition. We believe it’s better for the girls to be closer. St. Luke’s is a forty-minute drive with traffic; it’s much more convenient for them to go here. And the public schools are excellent.”

Charlotte had frowned. “They’re adequate, but I wouldn’t say they’re excellent—”

“They’re ranked very highly. I don’t wish to debate this, Charlotte. We want our girls to be down-to-earth, not entitled.”

Charlotte raised an eyebrow. “You don’t seem to think living in a million-dollar-plus home is entitled, so why are you against private school? St. Luke’s is a quality education and will better prepare them for their futures,” Charlotte said. “It certainly helped James get into medical school.”

It had taken every bit of Annabelle’s self-control not to lose her temper. “And that’s what’s so great about having your own children: You get to make your own choices.”

James finally spoke up. “Mom, the matter’s settled. Please respect our decision.”

To her credit, Charlotte never brought it up again, and she was right there cheering at all the girls’ plays, sporting events, and school activities.

Annabelle turned the radio on and tried to quiet her thoughts. A few minutes later, her phone rang. James. She pushed answer on her steering wheel.

“Miss me already?” she teased.

“Did you hear about the plane crash?”

Her heart stopped. “No, what crash?”

“Over Atlanta. Early this morning. Over two hundred people dead.”

Annabelle

James’s words shocked her so much that Annabelle almost ran a red light. She slammed on the brakes just in time.

“Annabelle, are you okay?”

“Yeah, I got distracted and almost didn’t stop at the light. I’ll call you from the office.”

“I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have called you while you’re driving. Be careful.”

She pulled into a gas station after the light changed and put the car in park, her heart hammering in her chest. Hands shaking, she rummaged through her bag and found the pack of cigarettes. She put down the window and lit one. Pulling out her phone, she navigated to a search engine to look up the crash. Her eyes scanned the page, the pit in her stomach growing. She held her breath when she got to the flight number: 108. My God…It was the same as in her dream. What was happening to her?

She took a deep breath and called her best friend, Kiera. They’d grown up together and had been inseparable until college, when Kiera went to the University of Maryland. She’d met someone there and gotten married after college. Now Annabelle only saw her in person on the few weekends a year they managed to clear their schedules and get away together, but they texted often. The phone rang twice before Kiera picked up.

“Hey, aren’t you supposed to be at work?” Kiera asked. She was a freelance editor who worked from home.

“I’m on my way, but I need to talk to you.”

“What’s wrong?”

Annabelle could hear the concern in her voice.

“Something really weird’s going on. I’m having these bizarre dreams, and I think they’re starting to come true.”

“What do you mean? What kind of dreams?”

She told Kiera about the last two but for some reason withheld the one where James was choking her. “I mean, the restaurant thing could have been a coincidence. But how could I dream about a plane crash before it happened?”

“I don’t know. Are you sure you did? The crash happened early this morning, I think around six a.m. What time was your dream?”

“Not sure. I woke up at seven.”

“Could you have heard about it on TV or something and incorporated it into your dream?”

Annabelle considered this. She’d thought her phone alarm was a fire alarm in the hotel she was dreaming about. But they didn’t have a television in their bedroom. And if James had been listening to the news, he would have mentioned the crash before they left this morning. “I don’t think so. Do you really think I could have dreamt about it after it happened?”