Prologue
The boy’s brow furrowed as he guided the paintbrush across the canvas. The chocolate-colored paint blotched on the canvas like blood welling from a wound…
Wait a minute, wait a minute. He paused, putting the paintbrush in the water cup. Stepping back, he examined it and suddenly the shapes were clear to him.
“Oh my God,” he whispered. Numbness spread through his body like an icy poison. He sat down hard on the stool. His breath came as if he had just climbed the stairs.
He would have to tell her.
And then he would have to tell her…everything.
The vision became blurry and water begun trickling down his cheeks. Tears of regret. Tears of frustration. When he told her…what would happen?
He knew this wouldn’t have happened if he had never gotten involved with her, if he had just let fate run its natural course.
But, of course, he had to interfere.
A pounding on the door alerted him.
A visitor.
He slid off the stool. Wiping away all signs of his expression of grief, he threw a cover over the painting and said, “Come in.”
The door opened to reveal the girl whose future he had just predicted.
