Page 133 of Valkyrie Unknown

No. I was supposed to be there. Ihadbeen there, and Davyn wasn’t. The casualties were still real, though. “So many people hurt,” I muttered.

“I’m glad you weren’t one of them.”

But that happened because of me, and I hadn’t been there?

Why couldn’t I reach half my mind? It was like there was a fuzzy blanket over some of my thoughts

“I mean it. Are you all right?” Davyn said again.

My phone rang.Enid. She would know what was going on. “Hello?” I answered immediately.

“Azzie. Thank God you’re all right. From the news it looked like it happened right near your work.” At least this sounded like Enid.

“I’m fine. I didn’t go to work today. Bad feeling.”Really?That wasn’t right. “Do they know who did this?” Why did I ask that?

Why was Davyn sitting on the couch watching me, barely moving?

“They do.” Enid’s answer jarred me. “All the news places are saying a domestic terrorist group took credit for it. They have a manifesto. I guess the organization is against centralization? Big cities? There was something about snowflakes and tears and Lennon.”

Half of me insisted this all made sense, and I struggled to hold onto the half that said I was stuck in crazy woo-hoo land. “Vladimir Lenin?”

“John Lennon. Are you sure you’re all right?”

I wasn’t. I stared at the TV, reading scrolling headlines that said the same thing Enid had. Across multiple videos. The explosion wasn’t about me after all? Was that what this meant? Where was my relief? “I’m good. Thanks for checking on me.”

“Azzie, wai?—”

I hung up. My phone rang again almost instantly and Enid’s name flashed on the screen, but I ignored it, and turned to Davyn.

“I thought it might be a prophecy,” he said. “Like the one your mom saw.”

“Me too.” The harder I grasped at the fuzzed thoughts, the faster they slipped away.

“It will be. At least one of them will come true soon.”

Several of them?—

My thoughts evaporated. No, there they were.

Several prophecies about me had almost happened, but then nothing. Mom had been so sure. She’d seen so many things, but when she passed away, and in the years after, it turned out she’d just been creative and a bit off her rocker.

The thought smacked me in the gut harder than a fist, but why?

Because I’d loved my mother. Because mental illness was hereditary, and what if I suffered the same?—

Because this isn’t rea?—

Right. It wasn’t right that so many people were hurt, some dying, because some terrorist group was anti-urbanization.

“Hey.” Davyn’s voice was his, but the tone was too gentle. Too patient. He placed a finger under my chin and lifted my gaze to his. “Are you all right?”

No.

Yes.

Why was there a war in my mind?

“Yes,” I said.

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