my head and stuck there on repeat. I didn’t visibly react but did start to worry. When I’d run, I hadn’t given any thought to what I would do with them.
When it came to my premonitions, my brain acted as a broken ticker. A string of letters and numbers, the market code followed by the gain, repeated until I passed the information on to someone else.
I’d once tried withholding the information from Richard, but that hadn’t worked out very well for me. I discovered that the longer the letters and numbers repeated, the more uncomfortable I became. My head began to ache annoyingly, and I grew irritable. The pain gradually expanded until it reached an agony so piercing that it brought me to my knees, sobbing and clutching at my head. I ended up screaming the market code to Richard. I never willingly withheld the information after that. But I did learn something very significant from the attempt; as soon as the information left me, the pain ended.
I bit my lip as I followed everyone toward the house. I couldn’t just give the information to Liam and Aden; I’d tried that once, and it hadn’t worked. My need to stay hidden limited my options to the other three adults in the building. If I gave it to one of them, they wouldn’t think anything of it the first time. But what about the fifth or sixth? Offloading a tip always earned me a week’s reprieve until the next premonition struck. Always seven days apart. To the minute. They’d notice and would start asking questions I couldn’t answer. Maybe I should have gone with Nana. I could have given it to some random person, then.
Both Liam and Emmitt stopped on the porch to watch me when I lagged behind. I suppressed a sigh and followed them up the steps. I would easily make it through the rest of the day. Tomorrow, though, I’d suffer if I didn’t come up with a plan before then.
Emmitt stood aside while Liam and I entered Jim’s apartment. The back of my neck tingled, and I knew he studied me. I couldn’t consider him as an option. He saw too much.
Jim stood in front of the refrigerator, listing out possibilities for lunch. His large frame put emphasis on the tiny boy standing next to him. Aden barely passed Jim’s knee. Jim seemed to understand Aden’s timid nature and only asked yes and no questions in a teasing manner. By process of elimination, Jim helped Aden choose cold cut sandwiches.
I sat quietly and watched Jim explain to the boys how he made his triple-decker sandwich. The meat-stacked sandwich towered on his plate, and I wondered how he’d even bite it. I studied Jim and realized he might be a perfect answer to my current problem. He seemed like the type of person who teased and smiled a lot, not taking anything too seriously. The kind of person who wouldn’t take a stock tip seriously. I tried to think of a way to pass the information to him without being obvious, but with Emmitt’s gaze still on me, nothing inspiring came to mind. So, I kept quiet.
We were still eating when Nana walked in, carrying three paper bags. Emmitt quickly rose to help her.
“I think you’ll be happy with what I found,” Nana said, setting two bags on Jim’s couch. “Emmitt, can you get the other bags for me? They are on the porch.” He nodded and stepped out.
Nana reached into one of the bags and pulled out a ball cap. “I have one for both of you. It’s good to wear outside so you don’t burn,” she said to the boys. She set the caps on the couch then turned for the next item in the bag.
I glanced at the boys to see what they thought but, instead, witnessed Jim reach over and take a huge bite of Emmitt’s sandwich. He grinned at me while he did it. My lips twitched, surprising myself. Both the boys smiled when they saw my reaction but ducked their heads down to keep eating.
Emmitt walked back through the door with three more bags. He set them on the couch and
When it came to my premonitions, my brain acted as a broken ticker. A string of letters and numbers, the market code followed by the gain, repeated until I passed the information on to someone else.
I’d once tried withholding the information from Richard, but that hadn’t worked out very well for me. I discovered that the longer the letters and numbers repeated, the more uncomfortable I became. My head began to ache annoyingly, and I grew irritable. The pain gradually expanded until it reached an agony so piercing that it brought me to my knees, sobbing and clutching at my head. I ended up screaming the market code to Richard. I never willingly withheld the information after that. But I did learn something very significant from the attempt; as soon as the information left me, the pain ended.
I bit my lip as I followed everyone toward the house. I couldn’t just give the information to Liam and Aden; I’d tried that once, and it hadn’t worked. My need to stay hidden limited my options to the other three adults in the building. If I gave it to one of them, they wouldn’t think anything of it the first time. But what about the fifth or sixth? Offloading a tip always earned me a week’s reprieve until the next premonition struck. Always seven days apart. To the minute. They’d notice and would start asking questions I couldn’t answer. Maybe I should have gone with Nana. I could have given it to some random person, then.
Both Liam and Emmitt stopped on the porch to watch me when I lagged behind. I suppressed a sigh and followed them up the steps. I would easily make it through the rest of the day. Tomorrow, though, I’d suffer if I didn’t come up with a plan before then.
Emmitt stood aside while Liam and I entered Jim’s apartment. The back of my neck tingled, and I knew he studied me. I couldn’t consider him as an option. He saw too much.
Jim stood in front of the refrigerator, listing out possibilities for lunch. His large frame put emphasis on the tiny boy standing next to him. Aden barely passed Jim’s knee. Jim seemed to understand Aden’s timid nature and only asked yes and no questions in a teasing manner. By process of elimination, Jim helped Aden choose cold cut sandwiches.
I sat quietly and watched Jim explain to the boys how he made his triple-decker sandwich. The meat-stacked sandwich towered on his plate, and I wondered how he’d even bite it. I studied Jim and realized he might be a perfect answer to my current problem. He seemed like the type of person who teased and smiled a lot, not taking anything too seriously. The kind of person who wouldn’t take a stock tip seriously. I tried to think of a way to pass the information to him without being obvious, but with Emmitt’s gaze still on me, nothing inspiring came to mind. So, I kept quiet.
We were still eating when Nana walked in, carrying three paper bags. Emmitt quickly rose to help her.
“I think you’ll be happy with what I found,” Nana said, setting two bags on Jim’s couch. “Emmitt, can you get the other bags for me? They are on the porch.” He nodded and stepped out.
Nana reached into one of the bags and pulled out a ball cap. “I have one for both of you. It’s good to wear outside so you don’t burn,” she said to the boys. She set the caps on the couch then turned for the next item in the bag.
I glanced at the boys to see what they thought but, instead, witnessed Jim reach over and take a huge bite of Emmitt’s sandwich. He grinned at me while he did it. My lips twitched, surprising myself. Both the boys smiled when they saw my reaction but ducked their heads down to keep eating.
Emmitt walked back through the door with three more bags. He set them on the couch and
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