Foretold by Rinda Elliott Page A

makes me feel better.”
    “Yeah, nothing like a little pressure. But I’m determined to keep Mom from hurting Vanir and I plan to do it without dying. Stubborn as you are, it shouldn’t be hard for you, either.”
    “But Coral...Coral’s—”
    “Coral is a lot stronger than we think. She’s going to be fine.”
    “You know you’re channeling that parent vibe again, right? You’re, like, minutes older than me.”
    “Sometimes every minute counts. I gotta go. Promise to call you again later.” I hung up the phone and purposely shoved the nightmare vision of my sister’s bare, bloody scalp to the back of my mind.
    I had to believe we were changing things.
    * * *
    Awkward didn’t come close to describing breakfast.
    Ari chuckled when I padded into the room, my fists full of sweatpants. I’d snatched a shower—after carefully locking both doors to the bathroom. Finally . Felt better, but I was in serious need of some gel. My hair sproinged all over my head like I’d fought an electrical outlet and lost. Other than the monster bruise on my forehead, the numerous red scratches and dark circles rimming my eyes—oh, and the red from the tears—I looked pretty normal.
    I smirked with the thought.
    Vanir threw me a smile while he rummaged noisily through a drawer.
    Glancing around the kitchen, I took in what I couldn’t last night. Big and bright with three huge windows, two by the table, one over the sink. The cabinets were stained a light brown offset by a dark granite counter in black with lighter specks of brown and cream. A healthy fern hung in front of the sink’s window and I wondered which of the brothers had the green thumb.
    Not a frilly thing in sight.
    Sliding glass doors opened to a wooden deck. Snow about three feet deep rested in drifts against the glass. This kitchen would have felt homey if that sight was just a regular, plain old winter mix. In winter . Ari glanced at it more than once as he worked the stove.
    It was a constant reminder that nothing was right with the world. Should be blazing hot out there now, should be birds and butterflies and bees filling the air. Summer stuff.
    And I shouldn’t be in a house with strangers chasing down a mother who might have killed someone. My shoulders sagged.
    Ari flipped a pancake, caught my hungry gaze on the plate of stacked ones and smiled. “Morning,” he murmured.
    “Good morning,” I said to the whole room. Usually, I couldn’t eat when I was this upset, but the scent of hot pancakes and warmed syrup made my stomach grumble.
    Hallur sat across from me with his foot propped in a chair. “You look better than you did last night.”
    “Before or after I hit the floor?” I could not stop my gaze from straying to Vanir’s broad shoulders as he growled and moved to another drawer. He had to shove Ari aside to get to it.
    They acted a lot like Kat and I did.
    Heat crept up my cheeks when Hallur caught me staring at his brother. I quickly looked down at the table, running my hand over the thin lines carved into the top. I tried not to think about Coral crying during our quick phone call. I planned to call her back later, make sure she didn’t try to drive in that shape—not in all this stupid snow. “My cell phone,” I blurted.
    “On the coffee table.” Ari set the spatula down and cupped both hands around his coffee mug, locking his knees when Vanir pushed him. “We found it in the woods last night. It’s dead. We don’t have chargers that fit that kind, so I hope you brought one.”
    I had. In my suitcase. “How far is it to where my car went in?”
    “Couple of miles.” Vanir opened another drawer. A few pieces of paper fluttered out. He ignored them. “I’ll go get what I can out of it this morning. Then I have to go back to the sheriff’s office. Dreading that.”
    I didn’t have to ask why because I knew it had a lot to do with his friend, and plus, in the motels I’d managed to find on the way here, I’d caught the news.