“I’m just telling you what’s going on. Whenever it happens, I feel cold inside. Like death is cutting through my soul,” she said, her voice lowering a bit, feeling more and more foolish as she tried to explain. “I know it sounds nuts. But it’s as if evil itself were looking through my eyes.”

“Kris—”

“I know, I know. I sound like a psycho myself, that I need years of therapy, but it didn’t happen until after the accident.”

“You told your father this?”

“As paranoid as he is about me? No way. I thought about confiding in his wife, Olivia, because she has, er, had, this psychic thing going on, but then she’d feel obliged to tell Dad, and so the only one I told was Ariel.” She sighed. “Who knows how many people she blabbed to.”

“No one will believe her. They’ll just think you’re loco.”

“Perfect,” she said. “Do you think I’m loco?”

Jay hesitated long enough to raise Kristi’s temper, but then he held up a hand and said, “I think something’s going on with you. This—phenomenon—the gray pallor vision—could be something physical.”

“A sight problem? A brain problem?”

He shrugged. “All I know is I really don’t think you should meet with Grotto. Or at least wait for me to go with you.”

Kristi would have liked to have an all-out argument about her “ability,” but maybe it was enough that she’d at least told him. For the moment anyway. She negated his suggestion about Grotto with, “That would blow everything.”

“I can be outside his office. Nearby. You have your phone on, put it on mute, so he doesn’t hear anything, and I’ll listen in. If anything goes wrong, you let me know, and I’ll burst through the door like John effin’ Rambo.”

“Okay,” she said. Fortunately she didn’t have to work. Flirty Francesca had agreed to take Kristi’s shift at the restaurant. “Wait at the library until you hear me talking to him, just so you know we’re in his office and he won’t see you, then once I’m inside, you can come into the English Department. Closer. Afterward we can go to the student union and talk, then to your class.”

“Sounds good.”

“Do we need a code word in case I get into trouble with Grotto?”

“How about ‘Help’ or ‘Jay, get the hell in here!’”

“Those’ll work,” she said, almost laughing. “I’m only mildly crazy, you know,” she added.

“I know.”

She looked into his handsome face and wondered what had taken her so long to get to this point. To trust him. Love him.

She almost told him about the vial, but decided she’d keep that bit of information to herself at least for one more night. Until she’d seen Grotto’s reaction.