I slammed the door shut behind me. The door frame
rattled, and the picture of me holding a hot pink fishing pole and small catfish from the line fell off the wall. The glass shattered into pieces against the hardwood floor. “Perfect,” I muttered, massaging my temples. “That’s just freaking perfect.”
As I bent and began picking the shards of glass off the floor, I couldn’t help but notice the irony of the situation. The library had been a complete bust. Maggie and I hadn’t found anything remotely helpful, and I had driven home with a knot in my stomach that grew bigger with each passing mile. Just like the glass, the shred of hope I had been clinging to—the one that told me we would find some kind of logical answer—was broken. I was out of ideas, out of clues, and very likely out of my own damn mind.
A small sliver of glass sliced through the pad of my fingertip, and I hissed as a thick droplet of blood rolled down my finger. I was still holding a small pile of glass pieces in my other hand, so I glanced around for something to stanch the blood.
“Here.” Gareth walked over and knelt beside me, a box of tissues in his hand.
“Thanks,” I said, wrapping the tissue around my finger. “Sorry about the picture.”
Gareth shrugged. “Frames can be replaced.” He narrowed his eyes, looking closely at my face. “You okay?”
I nodded. “Gareth, can I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
Should I tell him? What if he thinks I’m completely nuts? I took a deep breath. “Do you believe in fate? I mean . . . do things happen for a reason, or is everything just some cosmic hodgepodge of random, unrelated events?” The words came pouring out. I studied Gareth’s face for a reaction, but he didn’t seem surprised or confused by the question.
“I think we all have a path we’re destined to follow. The people we meet, the places we go, the things we experience . . . Nothing is by chance.” He paused. “However, whether or not we choose to follow that path is another matter entirely.”
“What do you mean?”
“A person’s destiny isn’t a concrete certainty. There are people who live their entire lives and never fulfill their true purpose. Free will and choice, you see, are powerful tools of alteration. A simple choice can change everything.”
“So, when crazy things happen,” I questioned, “it’s up to the person to choose how they want to react . . . and that choice ultimately determines their future, right?”
“Exactly.” Gareth smiled at me. “If a man were told he might die on an airplane, then he could choose not to travel by air or take his chances. Either choice would drastically alter his future. Thus, the powerful nature of free will.”
I nodded, relief welling up inside of me. It was a comforting thought, though I still had a nagging feeling. “But what if free will isn’t part of the equation?”
Gareth raised his eyebrows.
“I mean,” I continued, “what if something happened that you had no control over—something that made no sense. Something even free will couldn’t stop?”
A strange look passed over Gareth’s face. Confusion, maybe? “Well, there are, of course, some very powerful forces at work in the universe . . .” He trailed off. “Are you sure everything’s okay? Did something happen with the test? When you called, I thought you said you did well.”
“No, the test was fine. Just have a lot on my mind, I guess.” I swallowed. “The future and all that.” The lie came naturally. Real brave, Lainey. Real brave.
Gareth’s face relaxed, and understanding washed over his features. “I keep telling you, kid, you have nothing to worry about. And you’ve got time, you know. You don’t have to have all the answers right now.”
I snorted. “Don’t you know me? I’ve had my life mapped out since I was old enough to make my first to-do list.”
“That may be so,” Gareth said with a chuckle, squeezing my shoulder. “But your future is far from decided.”
“That’s what terrifies me.”
“Just remember: you can’t control what happens to you, but you can control how you react to it. Those choices are what will determine your destiny.”
“Gee, thanks, Yoda,” I joked, trying to ignore the knot in my stomach. “You make it sound so simple.”
“Simple it is,” Gareth said, imitating Yoda’s gravelly voice. “Trust me, you should.”
I laughed and let him pull me in for a hug.
“Now, what do you say we get this glass cleaned up and order a pizza? Serena is on her way over and we can watch terrible movies and eat greasy carbs together.”
“I like the way you think.” I grinned. The knot in my stomach was still there, but the weight of it didn’t seem quite as heavy.
I stood up, unzipping the jacket I hadn’t yet removed. “I’ll go get the broom. Is the dustpan still in the pantry?”
I looked at Gareth. His shoulders were tense, and I couldn’t read the expression in his eyes. He was staring at the handprint—now faded, but still visible—on my arm.
“Lainey—” he began.
“It’s nothing,” I squeaked. “Maggie and I were messing around. You know how she gets.” I forced out a dry laugh. More lies. “Serves me right for having an easily excited best friend.”
“Maggie did that?”
“Oh, yeah. Something about a new Avengers movie. She saw the trailer and freaked out.” I sounded so sure I almost convinced myself. “So, the dustpan?”
Gareth stared for a moment before finally swallowing. “On the bottom shelf in the pantry.”
“Right.” I shuffled toward the kitchen. I pulled the broom and dustpan from their respective places and also grabbed a clean sweatshirt from the basket on the laundry machine. I threw it over my head, making sure the handprint was no longer visible.
I’ll tell him the truth when I know what’s going on, I promised, hoping to placate the guilt stirred up by all the lies. I will tell him.
I let out a long breath and walked back into the hallway, a forced smile plastered on my face. “So the real question is,” I said, “cheese or pepperoni?”
“Mom! Mom!”
I ran through the darkness, my arms reaching and clawing through the blackness in front of me, but touching nothing. “Mom, where you?”
Her face appeared, the one that looked so much like my own, but the lovely smile I’d seen in pictures was gone. Her lips were curled back in a scream, her eyes seeing beyond me.
“Lainey!” she cried. “Run!”
I didn’t wait to see what the danger was. I ran as fast as I could in the darkness, my mother’s frantic voice in my ear. “Run, Lainey!”
I saw a sphere of light ahead, and I dashed toward it. It bobbed against the darkness, and I threw myself forward, desperate to catch the light.
I landed on a patch of grass.
Trees surrounded me on three sides. In front of me was a large white plantation house.
And standing in front of the house was my mother. Fear still danced in her eyes, but there was a calmness about her.