lightning flashed again inside her head, too bright and blinding to be suppressed. Even though she kept her eyes wide open, the images began to play out in her mind like the reel of an old home movie. This wasn’t her and Joseph tangled up in each other’s arms. This was worse. Pain pierced her temples as the lightning brightened, illuminating the person in her vision.
Stacia cowered in a confined place, in the dark. Her little body shaking in her pajamas, the ones Elena had helped her into just a little while ago, the pink ones with the fluffy white sheep, each of them wearing a number, dancing on them. She’d taught Stacia to recognize numbers by pointing to them on those pajamas.
Where was her baby? Elena had to know. She closed her eyes, trying to focus on the vision, but the shadows thickened, obscuring everything but Stacia, lying alone in that tight, dark place but for her teddy bear, the fluffy white one that was so hard to keep clean Elena had to sneak it into the washing machine when Stacia was sleeping. Why was her baby alone in the dark? Stacia was terrified of the dark.
Elena hadn’t had a dream or vision of Stacia in so long, not since the one of her being born. Why now? Was Stacia in danger?
The pain intensified, hammering at Elena’s temples with such force that her knees weakened. As she swayed on her feet, strong hands closed over her shoulders, steadying her. But she couldn’t feel the touch, nor could she hear anything for the roar of fear in her ears, rushing through her pulsing veins.
Inside her head, in the vision, hands came out of the shadows, big hands reaching for Stacia, closing around her thin arms, dragging her out of her hiding place.
The muscles in Elena’s stomach clenched. Why had Stacia been hiding? Where was Stacia? Who was reaching for her?
Stacia’s blue eyes widened with fear, and she twisted in the grasp of the unknown man. But the hands only tightened, squeezing her delicate little arms until her mouth opened in a cry of pain.
“No!” Elena yelled, overcome with the need to protect her child.
The hands on Elena’s shoulders gripped harder, shaking her. “What the hell’s going on? What’s wrong?” Joseph shouted his questions, as if he’d asked before and been ignored. Undoubtedly he wasn’t used to being ignored.
Elena blinked open her eyes and stared up into his face, his brow furrowed in confusion. Choked with fear, all she could do was whisper, “Stacia…”
“She’s upstairs, right? Asleep?” he asked, his concern vibrating in his voice.
Elena drew in a deep breath, trying to calm herself. Her visions were of the future, not the present. And they didn’t always come true. If they did, Ariel wouldn’t still be alive. Stacia was fine. Her pulse leapt as she added her next thought. Now.
“I put her to bed,” she told Joseph and reminded herself. “She was in bed.”
“Then she’s still in bed,” Joseph assured her, as he studied her intently.
No one had ever witnessed Elena having a vision before. She’d been careful to conceal them while awake, even if she’d had to rush from a room during the middle of a conversation, and if a dream had interrupted her sleep, she’d insisted it was just a dream.
“Everything’s fine,” Joseph insisted, so eerily calm and reassuring that he unsettled her as much as the vision. Nobody had ever offered her such solid support.
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