Page 57 of Nineteen Eighty

“Maureen found out about Soren, didn’t she?”

Colleen paced around the front of her sister. “You knew? You knew and said nothing?”

“When has knowing ever changed anything?” Elizabeth moved toward the screened porch, Colleen in tow. “Maureen deserves so much better than the life she’s been given. Knowing that doesn’t give her a path to a better one, either, though.”

“Is that why you’re here?”

Elizabeth turned around and faced Colleen, dropping into the wicker chair with a soft thud. “No, actually.”

“Should we talk about it? We need to rally around Maureen, to give her all the support we can offer.”

“She won’t take it, Colleen,” Elizabeth said, rocking lightly. “She’ll never take anything from any of us ever again.”

Colleen sat across from her, leaning forward on her knees. “A guess? Or a premonition?”

“I’ve seen it. What Charles did is the final tear in the fabric of this family. Why it was this, and not a million other things, only God knows, I suppose.”

“You don’t normally confess your premonitions with me. Why now?”

“To make a point.”

“And what point is that?”

“I could be of use to you. To the Council.”

“Oh, Lizzy, not this again, and not today, of all days.”

“Yes, today, of all days.” Elizabeth stopped rocking. “I’m going to tell you something, Colleen. I know I did this once before, and it’s changed you, and I’m sorry for that, but if telling you about what happened to me in Paris sets us on the right course, then maybe it’s worth it.”

“What happened to you in Paris?”

“I met someone.” Elizabeth cleared her throat. “He said his name was Tristan, but I know that isn’t who he is, not really. Or what he is. But he knows who we are. It’s more than that, he’s a part of us, in some way. Maybe a guardian angel. Maybe… I don’t know. It’s not fair to speculate.”

Colleen frowned. “Tristan. Won’t that be your son’s name, one day?”

“It will,” Elizabeth said. “And all because of this one night in Paris.”

Elizabeth then told her a story. Of joy and love, followed by fear and angst. Of one desperate moment that almost cost Connor his life. And of a stranger, one she’d seen before, who not only saved him but offered Elizabeth a gift no one else had ever offered her.

“He asked me if I wanted to know the exact hour and manner of my death.”

Colleen’s heart nearly beat out of her chest. “And did you? Accept?”

Elizabeth nodded. “I did.”

“Oh, God.” Colleen clutched her chest. She’d never doubted Lizzy’s visions, but to have them independently confirmed, and by a mysterious stranger that had never once blipped on their radar. And the detail… the detail, somehow, filled in the last blanks in the tapestry. It removed all semblance of reasonable doubt. “And?”

Elizabeth shook her head. “No, sorry. It’s enough for me to live with it. I won’t put that on you, too.”

“But… I mean, it’s not…”

“Not that soon, no.” Elizabeth smiled. “Soon enough, I suppose. Sooner than I would’ve liked.”

“Why tell me, then?”

“Because I need you to understand I’m not little Lizzy who can’t handle her visions anymore, Colleen. I’m wounded, but I’m not broken. Bent, not destroyed. If I can live with knowing exactly when and why I’ll die, then you can find it in you to trust that not only am I capable of taking a seat next to you and the others, but I may actually be the missing link you’ve needed all along. Maybe I’m not the weak one, Colleen.”

Elizabeth got out of her chair. She knelt in front of Colleen. “Maybe I’ve always been the strong one. Maybe it’s time you put that strength to work for us.”

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