Chapter 1

Sarah Miller looked at her husband, Captain Mark Olsen.

He had just walked in, back from a short deployment.

His uniform was crisp.

His smile was for show.

"Mark," she said, her voice flat.

"We need to separate."

The words hung in the air of their military housing unit.

Mark's smile vanished.

"What?"

But Sarah's mind wasn't really there.

It was trapped in the nightmare.

A nightmare so real, it felt like a memory from a future she had to prevent.

Her son, Leo. Dead.

Because of Mark. Because of Jessica.

A shiver ran down her spine, cold sweat on her skin.

She felt Leo, their five-year-old, stir in the next room.

He was safe. For now.

She had to keep him safe.

That future, that dream, it couldn't happen.

She wouldn't let it.

She could almost hear Mrs. Peterson, their neighbor, gossiping.

"Captain Olsen? Such an honorable man. A devoted husband and father."

Mrs. Peterson saw the uniform, the polite nods.

She didn't see Mark's eyes when he looked at Jessica.

She didn't see the hollowness in his affection for Sarah and Leo.

In the dream, the contrast was sickening.

Future Leo, older, maybe ten or eleven, coughed in a tiny, run-down apartment.

His meals were small, cheap. A piece of bread, thin soup.

While Chloe, Jessica's daughter, lived well.

Sarah had seen it in the dream flashes: Chloe in a bright room, surrounded by new toys, eating organic fruit.

All paid for by Mark.

Mark, who had abandoned his own son.

Jessica's taunting voice echoed from the nightmare.

A future Jessica, smug and victorious.

"He sends me so much money, Sarah. For Chloe, of course. She needs the best."

Sarah remembered, even in the dream, clenching her fists until her nails dug into her palms.

The rage was a cold, hard knot inside her now.

It wasn't always like this.

She remembered their wedding day.

Mark, handsome in his dress blues.

His voice, sincere then, or so she'd believed.

"I will always protect you, Sarah. You and our family. You're my world."

Newspaper clippings called him a hero, a dedicated officer.

Her friends had envied her.

Then David died.

Mark's younger brother. Killed in action.

Grief had twisted Mark.

Or maybe it had just revealed what was already there.

Jessica, David's widow, had latched onto Mark.

And Mark had let her. More than let her.

The shift was subtle at first.

Then it became a flood.

Money diverted. "Jessica needs help, Sarah. She's grieving. Chloe has no father."

Their own budget tightened.

Leo's worn-out shoes. Chloe's designer sneakers, shown off in Jessica's photos.

Mark's calls from deployment, brief and empty for Sarah.

Long, hushed calls for Jessica, filled with concern for Chloe's supposed special needs.

His combat pay, a large chunk of it, went straight to Jessica's account.

"For Chloe's extensive allergy treatments," he'd said.

Sarah knew Chloe had a mild rash once.

The premonition's climax was seared into her brain.

Future Leo, so sick. Burning with fever.

Sarah, desperate, banging on a door.

Mark's door. He was a Colonel by then, powerful.

A young, uniformed aide had blocked her.

"The Colonel is busy. He's with Mrs. Olsen and her daughter."

Meaning Jessica and Chloe.

"My son is dying!" Sarah had screamed. "Mark, please!"

Mark's voice, cold, distant, from inside.

"She's hysterical. Jessica warned me. She's always exaggerating. Take her away."

Then, the final image: Leo, limp in her arms, his breath gone.

Her own scream, then darkness. Her own death, alone with her son.

A small sound from the bedroom.

Leo.

"Mommy?"

Sarah rushed to his side. Tears streamed down her face. She hadn't realized she was crying.

Leo's small hand touched her cheek.

"Why are you sad, Mommy?"

She hugged him tightly.

"Mommy's not sad, baby. Mommy is going to make things better."

She pulled back, looked into his innocent eyes.

"Leo, sweetheart. We... we might have to leave Daddy."

His face fell.

"Leave Daddy? Why? I love Daddy."

Of course, he did. He was five. He didn't understand.

Mark was back now. Just for a few days before a longer deployment.

This was it. Not a test she devised, but a test he would inevitably set for himself.

His actions now would show her if the premonition was an unshakeable fate or a warning she could heed.

She had to see his priorities with her own eyes, now, in the present.

He walked into the living room, already on his phone.

His voice was low, solicitous.

"Yes, Jessica. Don't worry about the finances. I'll sort it all out before I leave. Chloe's special preschool, consider it done."

He hung up, saw Sarah watching him.

He offered a strained smile. "Just sorting things for Jessica. You know how it is."

He didn't ask about Leo. He didn't ask about their bills.

He didn't see Leo peeking from the hallway, his small face etched with an unspoken question.

Why was Daddy always helping Aunt Jessica and Chloe, but never had time for him?

Sarah saw the familiar shadow of disappointment cross Leo's face.

It was the same shadow that had haunted him in her premonition.

Her heart hardened.

This was it. No more chances.

"I will save you, Leo," she whispered, a vow to herself, to her son.

She would not let that future happen.

Later, Leo sat beside her on the couch, quiet.

He'd heard Mark on the phone again, promising Chloe a new bike.

Mark had forgotten he'd promised Leo a trip to the zoo for months.

"Mommy," Leo said, his voice small. "Is Daddy... is he mad at us?"

Sarah pulled him close.

"No, baby. He's just... confused."

She took a deep breath. "But we are going to go somewhere new. Just you and me. A fresh start."

Leo looked up at her, his eyes wide. He saw the resolve in her face.

He nodded slowly.

"Okay, Mommy. If we have to go, we'll go together."