My head was filled with noise. Metal on metal. Glass breaking. An engine smashing against rock. The roof of my truck folding in. The truck rolled and rolled before I was hit with a blast of pain and then . . . darkness.

Someone died. That time it was probably me. Maybe. I wasn’t sure.

There was something in the premonition I didn’t understand. Something mysterious. Something I couldn’t grasp. Why did I turn my wheel left, smack in front of an oncoming car? Who was the other person? What was hanging over that premonition, and why the fogginess, the lack of clarity? Why did the premonition change? That never happened with other premonitions.

* * *

“Evie,” Olec Lavender said to me in the science fiction section of my bookstore. “If you please, I need to know what you see in my future.”

“I see you buying a lot of books here.” Olec is about thirty-five. He has some recognizable OCD, but it doesn’t get in the way of his inventing stuff that he patents and sells for a fortune. Only way I knew that he had a boatload of money was because he was on the cover of a national newspaper a few years ago. They called him Super Genius. I call him Slightly Nerdy, Somewhat Eccentric Olec. He lives in a tiny, old log cabin with only a fireplace for heat but has tons of land and six dogs.

“I buy two a week, as you know, Evie.” He twitched, then adjusted his glasses. “Monday mornings you and I meet to share information and thoughts on literature, the classics, contemporary nonfiction and fiction, and any new science or history-based books. Reading time is from seven until nine o’clock at night. Nine o’clock until ten o’clock is for online Calculus Club. Then a fruit snack before sleeping.”

“Right. It’s a solid reading schedule.” And there was that tiny OCD. Who was I to judge? I had some of that myself. Plus, general anxiety and a battle with depression and fear.

“And what is in my future, based on your findings?”

“I can’t see into the future.” I moved over to the gardening section, which lines the yellow rose wallpaper wall, and he followed. We have a ton of gardeners on San Orcanita, and tourists love picking up gardening books featuring their lush gardens. My mother and aunts’ garden is featured in several books. When they are included, of course they are wearing their gasp-inducing flowered hats.

“I believe that is incorrect information, Evie, and I am experiencing some befuddlement as to why you are downplaying your phenomenal gift. It is my understanding that you have premonitions.” His face scrunched in some confusion.

“You’re an engineer. You also have a doctorate in physics. Why would you believe that I could see the future?”