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Paxton scrunched his face. “Are you sure? I do have a client in a half hour. But you said Mark was going to blow a fuse. Not that that wouldn’t be fun to see.”

“Yes, I’m sure. And yes, it would be fun to see. Go, it’ll be fine. Either way, I’m going to have to wait for the next bus.”

Paxton paused at the car and patted the man gently. “You take care. My friend Raphael is going to stay with you until help arrives.”

The man nodded weakly. I think he was shaken more than anything else. Paxton took two steps and then turned quickly back to hug me. “Don’t you ever tell me it’s not a superpower, Raphael Willow.” He sniffled and walked quickly away.

The ambulance arrived minutes later, and I hurried to the bus stop. The next bus was just pulling up. I was going to be late, but I had too much in my head to worry about my awful job. I found an empty spot in the back and plopped down on a ripped seat. Even the duct tape used to hold the vinyl together had split open. A group of four teenage girls giggled, snapped selfies, and shrieked with delight over a video one of them had shared—all before the bus even pulled away from the curb. I watched them for a moment, caught between envy of their easy closeness and relief that my own long, awkward teenage years were behind me. I’d never had a circle of friends to giggle, gossip endlessly or take bus rides with. After Mom died, I found solace for my grief in books and staying near home. Raina took good care of me. She baked cookies and made home life nice, considering the giant hole that had been ripped in it. Stepping out in the teen social world had been daunting and not the least bit inviting. I’d never fit in, and I really didn’t mind that.

I rested back. What a morning it had been already. Paxton’s words rolled through my head again. I’d never considered my quirky ability to see five seconds into the future valuable for anything more than avoiding a spilled drink or accidental fall. But this morning, it had saved Paxton’s life. It was wild to think that a five-second window of time could make such a difference. I stared absently out the window at the passing stores and cars. A few tears of relief fell as I thought about the nightmare we’d avoided.

My phone buzzed in my purse. I opened it. The trio stared up at me. “What the hell are you guys doing in there?” I pulled out my phone. It was Paxton. He’d texted a row of red heart emojis. I returned the same. “I found the trio,” I texted back. “You were right. They were in my purse after all.” I placed the phone back in the purse and held it in my lap. I was certain I’d taken them out. After what had happened with Linda, I decided it was best to leave them behind. I closed my eyes and remembered apologizing to them for leaving them in the purse too long. I’d removed them and placed them on their usual shelf spot. When did I put them back in my purse? Had the incident in the citrus trees upset me so much I’d absently stuck them back in my bag? If that was the case, I sure as heck didn’t remember doing it.

Dread replaced my hurricane of thoughts when we reached my stop. I wondered briefly if Mark would fire me. If he did, would that be such a bad thing? I had some savings and could get by for a few months while looking for a new job. That notion fortified me enough to get up from the seat and leave the bus. The early morning drizzle had evaporated, and the sun was making its way through the clouds. A few of the sidewalk puddles wore oily rainbow prisms on their surfaces.

I stepped inside the building. Paxton had obviously been watching for me. He looked up from his meeting to give me a warm smile. Thank goodness for my five-second quirk.

The ride in the elevator felt exceptionally long. My fists were clamped tightly. I was anxious to get to the office and, at the same time, I was anxious about what awaited me once inside. I’d bravely considered the possibility of my firing, but in truth, the thought of job hunting and worse, interviewing, made me sick to my stomach. I planned to let Mark know that I was doing a good thing waiting for an ambulance for an elderly man who’d been in an accident, but I was sure he’d merely scoff at my excuse. How had I ever considered the man even the slightest bit attractive?

I walked inside. I was waiting for Linda’s sneer and reminder about the time to smack me before the door even closed, but Kylie and Linda were deep in conversation. Were they talking about my inevitable firing? Mark was in his office. The atmosphere inside the room never felt cheery, but today it was tense and even more unpleasant than usual. The coffee cart held the usual box of donuts, a treat that Mark ordered every Tuesday. He’d patted himself on the back for the small gesture many times. I had no idea what was happening between the mean girls, but I knew hunger was gnawing its way through my stomach lining.

I picked up a donut with chocolate sprinkles and carried it to my desk. A new stack of files waited for me. I sat down and put my purse away, making sure that it was latched to avoid any more embarrassing mishaps. Maybe I’d gotten lucky and no one had noticed my tardiness.

I got right to work. Linda and Kylie had parted from their highly secretive conversation. I hadn’t gotten lucky, after all. Linda stood up and marched toward me with a very dramatically bandaged hand. She held it up like a weapon and stuck it in my face. Red swollen fingers stuck out from the layers of gauze. “You can expect a letter from my lawyer. And I’ve asked for those figurines to be confiscated as evidence.” Her eyes dropped to my desk drawer. “Are those menacing pieces of garbage in your purse?”

I touched the drawer defensively. “No, and you have no right to confiscate anything from me. That’s a spider bite. There are no splinters on those figurines.”

“I’ll take legal action to get them,” she sneered. “By the way, you’re late again, and Mark is pissed.” She spun around on her heels and headed to the restroom.

Kylie left her desk to get a donut. She glanced at me over her shoulder a few times. One thing I knew about Kylie was that if there was gossip to share, she couldn’t hold back even if I was the person on the receiving end. Her partner in bitchiness was in the restroom, so she scurried over with her glazed donut. She glanced back toward Mark’s office. The door was still shut. She leaned down. “HPG, that investment firm we’ve been recommending to our clients, is being overrun by the feds today. They’re in big trouble. Mark is in a terrible state.”

Linda’s heels clacked in the hallway, so Kylie shot back to her desk. Linda scowled at me and then landed back at her own computer. I returned to my keyboard. Given the lawsuit threat, I might have gotten lucky. Mark was probably far too steeped in his own problems, ones that sounded far bigger than a tardy employee, to care about me walking in late.

My fingers flew over the keyboard. I had no problem making up for the few minutes of tardiness. I got lost in the dull, mindless task of data entry and had been lulled into my morning work state of mind when Mark’s door opened.

My shoulders hunched up to my ears when he barked my name. “Willow, my office!” He was using my last name. Not a good sign.

I looked cautiously his direction. His jaw was set tight and his shoulders even tighter. I’d never seen him in that state. In the short walk to his office, I’d resigned myself to the reality that I was getting fired.

“Shut the door,” he said abruptly. He circled behind his chair and gripped it tightly. “You were late again.”

“Yes, but you know I’ll get all my work finished. There was an accident⁠—”

He held up his hand. “No. I can’t take any more of your simpering excuses. You’re fired.”

A sharp, frantic knock on the door paused my brutal termination. “I’m in a meeting!” he yelled toward the door.

The door opened. Linda shot inside, looking pale and totally freaked out. “You need to come out here,” she managed to squeak, then grabbed the edge of the door to steady herself. “Now.” That word came out on a puff of air.

Mark glowered at me and then at Linda for the interruption. He stepped out of his office.

“What the fuck? Is this some kind of prank?”

“Nah, I’d be a shit prankster if that were the case.” The male’s voice was hoarse and gritty.

Linda stared at me suspiciously. “I knew you were a witch.” She seemed loathe to leave the protection of the office, but my curiosity was piqued. She backed out of the way as I strolled past.

I walked out and froze in place. It was a glitch. It had to be. The glitches were starting to feel too much like reality. The trio, my trio, were standing around my desk. They were no longer wooden figurines. They were life-sized flesh and blood.