She thought of the trip she and Peter were supposed to make to Montego Bay for their twelve year anniversary next year. She thought of Paiges Disney trip, of summer camp activities…and in the pre-dawn hours of morning, they felt like little bees stinging her mind. Somehow, she managed to finally drift off to sleep. She fell into a dream instantly and it was like falling into a pool of icy water. She was sitting on the deck of the boat that her mother had died on. Her mother was also there, sitting across from her with a bottle of wine. She drank directly from the bottle as Rachel looked at her.

Its about time you met me out on the boat, her mother said. Her blonde hair was in a ponytail and she looked absolutely radiantjust as Rachel remembered her.

But…you know whats going to happen here, right? Rachel asked.

Of course I do. It happens to us all. And between you and me, Id rather go out with my mind and body intact than in a hospital bed when Im ninety, everything falling apart.

But arent you scared?

Her mother laughed and took a long gulp of wine. No. Im sad more than anything. Sad that I wont get to see you grow up, sad that I never got to touch your father again. But you…you still have time left.

The tumor…it took my time away. My time is its time. Im just an oven to keep it cooking.

You were always a little overdramatic. Rachel…you have a year. Use it. Use it wisely.

What about Peter and Paige? Do I tell them?

Her mother smiled and when she did, her form started to fade away and the boat began to fall apart. What am I? she said. Your mother?

Her laughter faded away with her. In its place, as the boat started to deteriorate, some sort of alarm started to sound from the boat. For a fleeting instant, Rachel hovered above the water, the boat fading like her mother into the nothingness of the dream.

She searched for the alarm but when she realized what the noise was, the dream fell away.

Rachel sat up in bed, reaching to the bedside table for her phone. She only had two numbers unblocked on her cellPeter, and her supervisor at the bureau, Director Anderson. Because it was clearly Director Anderson and, according to the bedside clock, was 5:50 in the morning, she assumed there was something big on the other end of the line.

Do you even care, though? she asked herself.

On the heels of that, she heard her mother from the dream.

You have a year. Use it wisely.

As Peter started to stir at the sound of her phone, she answered it quickly. This is Agent Gift.