Prophetic Dreams

The dreams came every night after that.Different scenarios. Different ages. But always the same ending.Rosie dying.The second night, I dreamed of her at age five. Playing in a park. Running. Then—nothing. Just her small body on the ground. Paramedics. People crying.The third night, she was seven. In a school. Fire alarms. Smoke. Her face in a window, screaming.The fourth night, ten years old. Swimming. Going under. Not coming back up.Each dream was vivid. Detailed. Specific. I could see the clothes she wore. Hear the exact words people spoke. Feel the temperature of the air.They weren't normal nightmares.They were premonitions.By the end of the first week, I looked like death. Dark circles under my eyes. Hands shaking from too much coffee and too little sleep. I was terrified to close my eyes. Terrified of what I'd see."Elena." Calloway found me in the kitchen at three AM, staring at cold coffee. "You can't keep doing this."

Preventive Measures

"You want to do what?"The contractor stared at me like I'd lost my mind. Maybe I had."Fill in the pool," I repeated. "Completely. I want it removed."We stood in the backyard of the Sterling estate—Victoria's property where family gatherings were held. Where a beautiful infinity pool overlooked the gardens.Where, in 2.5 years, Rosie would drown."Mrs. Sterling, that's a fifty-thousand-dollar pool. Custom designed. It would cost nearly as much to remove it as it did to install.""I don't care what it costs." I crossed my arms. "I want it gone. This week."The contractor looked to Calloway for support. For reason.Calloway just nodded. "You heard her. Fill it in. Replace it with a garden. Whatever she wants.""But—""We're paying you to do a job, not to question it." Calloway's tone left no room for argument. "Can you do it or not?"The contractor sighed. "I can do it. But I'm telling you, it's a waste of—""Then get started." I

The Third Death

I was moving before my brain caught up.Shoving past Victoria. Into the bathroom. Plunging my hands into the water.Rosie's body was limp. Heavy. Wrong.I pulled her out, water streaming everywhere. Her lips were blue. Eyes closed. Not breathing."No, no, no—" I laid her on the bathroom floor. Tilted her head back. Started compressions. "Not again. Not again!"Calloway dropped beside me. "I've got breaths."One. Two. Three. Four. Five compressions.Breathe.One. Two. Three. Four. Five.Breathe."How did she get in there?" Marcus's voice from the doorway. "The tub was empty. I checked the bathroom an hour ago.""Someone call 911!" Sienna was on her phone already.One. Two. Three. Four. Five.Breathe.Rosie remained still. Blue. Gone."Come on, baby," I sobbed. "Come on. You survived twice already. You can do this. You can—"One. Two. Three. Four. Five.Breathe."Elena, let me—" Calloway tried to take over c

Aftermath and Recovery

Six months after the bathtub incident, life began to feel almost normal.Almost.I sat in Dr. Reeves' office for what she promised would be our final session. Six months of twice-weekly therapy. Six months of processing trauma, memory recovery, and learning to live with the knowledge that my daughter had survived three deaths."How are you feeling?" Dr. Reeves asked."Honestly? Better." I settled into the familiar chair. "The nightmares have stopped. The anxiety is manageable. I can let Rosie take a bath without having a panic attack.""That's significant progress." She made a note. "And your memories?""Fully restored. Everything from the past three years. My relationship with Calloway, Rosie's birth, the kidnapping, the trial—all of it." I paused. "Even the time loop. I remember both timelines now. The one where I died and the one where I survived.""And you've made peace with that?""As much peace as anyone can make with dying and coming back.

Tous les chapitres de : Chapitre 101 - Chapitre 104

Prophetic Dreams

Preventive Measures

The Third Death

Aftermath and Recovery