Chapter 4

The next morning, the smell of stale coffee and victory hung in the air at Station 51. The crew was still riding the high from the successful rescue. But my good feeling evaporated the moment Captain Duncan called me into his office.

"The civilian from the warehouse fire," he said, his face grim. "He died overnight. Hospital said it was 'unexpected complications'."

My blood ran cold. The same result. How?

Anthony, who had been on watch at the hospital for a few hours as a courtesy, came over and put a hand on my shoulder. "It's a tragedy, Molly. The doctors did everything they could. His system just gave out."

His voice was smooth, reassuring. A perfect performance.

A few hours later, the victim's family arrived. I expected anger, accusations. Instead, they were quiet, somber, and accompanied by a lawyer. They didn't want an investigation; they wanted a settlement. The city, eager to avoid a lawsuit over a "successful" rescue that ended in death, quickly agreed to pay. It was all too neat. Too clean.

The day of the charity baseball game arrived again. The chartered bus was parked out front. I knew what was coming next.

To preempt Sabrina, I spoke up during the morning briefing. "Hey, Cap, for the game today, how about we take the old reserve engine? A little team-building, right? Squeeze in together like the old days."

A few guys grumbled, but the idea had some appeal. But it didn't matter. As if on cue, Sabrina stumbled into the room, her face ashen.

"No!" she cried, pointing a shaky finger towards the parking lot. "Not the charter bus! It's the charter bus that's dangerous! I feel it... a crash... brake failure..."

My stomach clenched. She adapted. The prophecy wasn't about a specific vehicle; it was about whatever vehicle would create the most fear and give her the most credit. The trap was flexible.

The crew, remembering her "vision" about the warehouse collapse that almost happened, and the bus crash from the first timeline that they now believed she had prevented, immediately backed away from the charter bus.

"She was right last time," one of them muttered.

"I'm not getting on that thing," said another.

Fine. If the trap adapts, then so do I.

I stood up and grabbed my bag. "If you're all so scared, I'll go myself," I announced to the stunned room. I looked directly at Sabrina, then at Anthony. "I'll see you at the game."

I walked out of the station, my heart pounding. I was calling their bluff. And I had a feeling I knew exactly who would be forced to show their hand.