Her dad snorted. “Well, I’m completely nuts. Clearly.”
“That’s not what I mean.”
“Oh.” Her dad was instantly serious. “Okay. Well, I think one of my grandfather’s brothers ended up in a sanitarium. Is that what you mean?”
“Maybe.” He could have been a schizophrenic, which would explain Josie’s dreams and visions. “What about on Mom’s side?”
“Is there something wrong with your mother?” he said quickly.
Josie hesitated. She shouldn’t have. She should have just said, “No, of course not, Dad. She’s totally fine.” But she didn’t. Just a half second while the memory of the previous night’s incident raced through her brain, but that was all her dad needed.
“I knew it. Josie, look, I didn’t want to say anything before, but I think there’s something seriously wrong with your mom. Has been for some time. I read an article about how brain cancer can radically alter a person’s personality: their likes and dislikes, even their voice and mannerisms.”
Josie gripped the phone. “You think Mom has brain cancer?”
“Maybe.”
All the blood drained out of Josie’s face. “What?” Her voice faltered.
“Er . . .” Her dad caught himself. “I mean, of course not.” He paused, and Josie could hear him drinking something on the other end of the line. “But since I brought it up, has she been complaining of headaches recently? Had any dizzy spells or blackouts?”
“No.” Josie said. Brain cancer? Really?
“Okay. Well, that’s good.” He almost sounded disappointed. “Does she ever ask about me? You know, like after you came and picked up the mirror?”
“Sure,” she lied. She couldn’t bring herself to tell him that not only did his estranged wife never ask about him, but whenever Josie brought him up, her mom immediately changed the subject.
“Good. Next time she brings me up, tell her that I’m seeing someone, will you?”
Josie’s jaw dropped. “You’ve got a girlfriend?”
“Met her at the gym. She’s a yoga instructor. Tall, blond. Kimber’s the real deal.”
“Kimber?” Josie asked. “Kimber Janikowski?”
Her dad paused. “How did you know that?”
Josie pounded the palm of her hand against her forehead. “Kimber went to my high school, Dad. She was a senior when I was a freshman.” Could her week get any worse?
She heard her dad suck in a breath. “Really?”
“She was prom queen, Dad.”
He fumbled with his phone. “Hey, Jo Jo, I’ve got a meeting. Real quick, was there something you wanted to talk about?”
Real quick. Ugh. “It can wait.”
“You sure?”
“Yep.” Never more so.
“Okay, I’ll call you later. Love you, Jo Jo.”
“Love you too, Dad.”
4:30 P.M.
Josie sighed. So much for that.
Fine. She could deal with this problem by herself. She was an only child, after all. She’d just attack it scientifically, like her parents had taught her. Josie grabbed a notebook and pen from her backpack, and settled into the pillows on her bed.
Step one: formulate a question.
Easy. What the hell is going on?
Step two: research.
Er, not as easy. Though she did have a few pieces of information at her disposal. The train, for starters. She could assume it was coming from Fort Meade, and therefore had dropped off a shipment of deuterium for her mom. Ultradense deuterium was central to her mom’s research into creating micro black holes. It wasn’t inherently radioactive or particularly dangerous, but Josie would have to research its properties to find out if it could have accounted for the flash.
Then there was the mirror. First the incident at the train, then the explosion in her mom’s lab—the mirror was present both times. And Josie had clearly seen the reflection of the girl—Jo, if her dreams were correct—in the mirror, and in one of those dreams, Jo had seen her in the same mirror. Not that it made any sense, but at least there was a connection.
Lastly, the time. 3:59. The flash, the explosion, the dreams. They always happened at the exact same time.