"Hannah?" Noah casually sat back, giving me space to breathe as I banged my head repeatedly off the pillow like a nutcase.
If it wasn't a dream, then what was it? A vision of the future? But it hadn't been me, it had been Hannah, and Hannah died slitting her wrists, only in the dream Hannah did not die until many years later, after killing Noah's grandfather then both him and herself.
My eyes drifted to study him, as he returned my gaze just as observant.
"This base we're going to in Oregon, do you have family there?" I asked, remembering the most tragic part of Hannah's future life.
Noah frowned, the playfulness in his eyes vanishing into a cold, empty void.
"Yes." His tone was just as cold.
"A grandfather?" I asked, remembering the elderly man Hannah had murdered only moments before herself.
His frown deepened, creasing his brow, "How do you-"
