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job.”  He didn’t consider waitressing at the Italian place on Second Street a good career move.  He thought that after he’d spent six figures on a college education, Skyla would be able to find something better.
    Brooke was lucky.  Her parents were always traveling somewhere.  Her father was a successful writer and her mother a painter of sorts.  They never much bothered with Brooke or her older sister.  When Brooke had left home to stay in the dorms on the other side of town, they sold their large Chestnut Hill home and moved to a charming cottage on Nantucket.  Brooke had always spent much of her time at Skyla’s house, so the loss wasn’t really felt.  Brooke’s older sister, Maggie, checked up on Brooke every once in a blue moon.  Maggie was off in L.A. now being an actor or singer or something like that.  Maggie was a lot like Brooke’s mom, Claire.  Brooke prided herself on being the very opposite.  Claire had been a hippie and spent much of her teens and twenties hanging with Skyla’s mom.  Claire got married after becoming pregnant.  Vera followed suit, figuring it was about time anyway.  The two managed to keep partying with their new families in little apartments in the Boston area.  When it was time for Maggie to start school, both families finally settled down in a beautiful New England town close to Boston where Skyla’s father had inherited a home.  Claire and Vera got pregnant at the same time and named their daughters to signify their love of nature and all things beautiful: Brooke and Skyla.  Skyla’s father grew tired of the lot rather quickly.  He left soon after Skyla was born.
    Skyla didn’t care what her father or anyone else wanted for her.  She liked feeling as if she were just passing through, as if she weren’t tied to anything here, especially a job.  Skyla had just been telling Brooke that morning how nice it was to feel normal.  There was a slight danger in Skyla’s falling for Seth, the manager of the restaurant.  Every day, she and Brooke came up with new reasons to stay away from him.  He was ten years older.  He had slept with Katie, one of the other waitresses, who already hated Skyla.  He would certainly not find Skyla charming when he found out about her “gifts.”  These sessions proved to be unsuccessful, because one night the week before Skyla found herself following him home. 
    Work was now unbearable—just like Brooke had warned it would be.  Seth no longer flirted with Skyla.  Seth was now all Skyla could think about.  Katie was nasty to the customers at Skyla’s tables and started sabotaging orders with the help of the chef, who happened to be Katie’s cousin.  Skyla gave up her shift one night because she couldn’t handle Seth’s ignoring her for one more evening.  Instead of subjecting herself to the torture, Skyla went to her favorite café to read her newest book.  She enjoyed her tea and basked in her new-found normalcy. 
    Skyla had just started the second chapter when she stopped midsentence.  A shiver ran up her spine.  She felt him.  Or maybe she just sensed him: that tingle, the hair standing up on the back of her neck, and her heart pounding like it would jump out of its cavity.  She was immediately covered in a black cloud.  It suffocated her and kept her frozen in place.  A silent but deafening boom rang in her ears: terror! 
    Skyla knew him immediately, because she had felt him in her dreams.  He had appeared in several of the nightmares that had followed Yvette’s reading.  It had been three months since the clairvoyant had turned on a switch for Skyla.  Now there were plenty of dreams and visions that flooded Skyla’s world.  They warned Skyla of the imminent danger that lingered between worlds.  She mustered the strength to look up and found he was looking down at her.  He was staring right into her soul.  He was a towering six foot four at the very least.  He had pitch-black hair and eyes the