The silence that followed sounded louder in my ears than a scream.
“What exactly is it you’re going to?” Leanne asked.
“Andre’s birthday party.”
Understanding broke out along Leanne’s face. “Right before you died I saw Andre and a gun.”
I felt lightheaded. Andre’s going to kill me.
I didn’t think my heart could break anymore, but I was wrong. Even after Cecilia’s warning, I’d carried around the secret hope that he was innocent.
My chest ached, and my stomach churned painfully. How could people live like this? Why would anyone want to fall in love? This was awful.
I blinked a few times to push back my tears and met Leanne’s shocked gaze.
I had a decision to make: go and die, or stay and … probably die in the near future. Leanne’s vision also indicated that I had to come to terms with the fact Andre was playing me.
I felt my conflicting emotions resolve themselves. “I’m going. I have to.” I nodded to myself. I had to save those people.
Leanne looked at me as if I were insane. “You can’t. You’ll die. I saw it.”
“Leanne, people will die whether or not I’m there. You said yourself that the guests were trapped in the burning building. We know this will happen. I can evacuate them if given the chance.”
She took this in. Then she nodded. “Fine. But I’m going too.”
Now it was my turn to look at her like she was crazy. “No way. I can’t let you risk your safety.”
“I’m not letting my friend walk to her death without some backup.”
“Leanne!”
“I’ve already decided. You can’t change my mind. I’m coming.”
The door burst open to reveal a shirtless Oliver. “Oh. My. God.” He was wide-eyed. “When did I get a bellybutton piercing?” He gazed, horrified, at the pink and clear crystals dangling from his navel.
“Pixie dust.” Leanne shook her head. “You tried pixie dust last night, and then decided to get your bellybutton pierced.”
If I’d been in a better mood, I would’ve laughed. Instead I said, forlorn, “I wish I could’ve been there.”
Oliver glanced up, his gaze piercing. “Is everything okay, G?” Somehow, he knew. He knew that my heart was broken, and he knew that only one thing could’ve caused that.
Leanne met my eyes before she turned to Oliver. “We think Andre’s planning on killing Gabrielle tonight at some party.” I felt a tightness in my chest as she spoke the words out loud. “Gabrielle, however, is still planning on going so she can save all the others I foresaw die. So now I’m going with her.”
“No—” I began.
Oliver pulled up a chair and sat down next to us. “In that case, count me in.”
“No.” I rubbed my temples. “Please. I don’t want either of you getting hurt.”
Oliver scratched his chin. “If I remember correctly, I am the bossy one in this relationship, not you. So, I’m coming.”
I sighed, looking at the clock. It was 3:00 p.m. “The gala starts at seven. That means we have less than four hours to come up with a plan and get ready.”
Oliver squealed. “I’m designing our outfits!”
***
It was while Oliver was pinning up Leanne’s hair that I heard a knock. I got up and opened the door.
I balked at the visitor. “Caleb?”
He scratched the back of his head nervously. “Hey.”
“What are you doing here?”
“I texted him,” Leanne said. Oliver eyed him up and down like he was a juicy morsel. “I thought he might want to help.”
I squinted at Leanne. After his apology last week, I knew Caleb would’ve eagerly assisted us tonight. But I hadn’t told Leanne about Caleb’s apology. So why had she contacted him?
I swallowed. Whatever she saw must’ve been awful enough that she called in a favor. That, or he was in the vision.
I looked back at him. “Did Leanne tell you what you’re getting yourself into?”
“Enough to know the danger.”
“And you still want to do this?”
Caleb pushed past me and ambled in. Awfully presumptuous of him. He was looking at a glass paperweight of mine when he answered. “I’ve been in training for this type of thing for years.”
“I’m not sure I understand,” I said.
He glanced up and our eyes locked. “And I’m not sure I’m authorized to tell you … yet. Just trust me when I say that I’m prepared.”
“Okay,” I blew out my breath, “then let’s get you suited up.”
***
At 7:30 p.m. our taxi pulled up and we dashed inside. “Where to?” our driver asked.
“The Bishopcourt mansion,” I said. “And I will double you’re your fee if you can get us there as quickly as possible.” Our task was simple: evacuate Andre’s mansion. The not-so-easy part was going to be staying alive.