"Lily!"

A man, swaying on his feet, slurs his words as he drags her through the parking lot of an all too familiar biker bar. He's wearing a stained wife-beater under a half-unbuttoned plaid shirt, a cigarette dangling from his lips.

"Stupid bartender cut me off," he slurs, pulling her by the arm onto the sidewalk. He's not even paying attention, ranting drunkenly about how pissed off he is.

"Daddy—" Lily begins to protest. She's wearing a dress— the dress she's wearing in the present time. And she's still got her coloring book.

"Shut your mouth!" he snaps at her, amid other expletives. "Remember what Daddy said? Keep your mouth closed."

She purses her lips, to terrified to continue.

"Good," he says and stumbles into the road.

It's not their turn to cross. He doesn't notice and keeps leading her like he couldn't care less. A giant truck is coming, barreling through the light, and even though she drags her heels to try and get away, she can't get back in time.

Her father has no idea. He doesn't see the damn thing coming until it plows right into them.

Both of them die almost instantly.

"Don't mind her," the bartender finally says when I come back into reality, pale and shaking. "Her dad's a regular. I keep an eye on her. He's in the bathroom right now, griping about how I stopped his drinks after he could barely speak English anymore."

The man of the hour emerges from the restroom as if it's his cue. His shirt half-unbuttoned and he's getting ready to light a cigarette with no regard for the No Smoking sign hanging by the exit. He must be Lily's dad and he's fuming.

"It's time to go, Lily," he orders sharply. "Get your things. We're leaving."

She's unable to stand up for herself and reject his orders. She's too young to know better, too young to know that he is going to kill both of them with his recklessness.

"Sir," I begin, trying to stay calm. "Are you sure you should be taking her out with you this late?"

He looks appalled that I would even talk to him, blowing smoke in my face as he talks. "Are you trying to tell me how to parent my own kid?"

I shake my head, digging my nails into my palms. "I just think that if you're going to be hammered, a child shouldn't be around for it."

He grabs her wrist, hard, fingers sure to leave a bruise if he keeps it up. "Thanks, but I'm not going to listen to a stuck-up little kid. Are you even old enough to be in here?"

Oh, sweet irony.

He shoves past me with his daughter in tow, her little blue eyes falling back on me as they disappear outside. I start to follow, but Joel grabs my hand before I can.

"What was that, Vi?" he asks, genuinely surprised by me.

Larry takes the liberty to grab the long-forgotten coffees and set them back on the table, turning his head respectfully so he can talk to Manny instead of eavesdropping. The whole thing is about to become a debacle, I just know it.

Tears begin to fill my eyes as my voice breaks. "He's wasted. He could get them killed. There's no way he can pay attention to anything around them and she could be in danger."

Joel cups my cheeks in his hands and wipes my tears with his thumbs, trying to soothe me. "Hey, hey, no she's not, Vi. She'll be okay. You don't know—"

"You don't understand!" I exclaim, near hysterics.

The bartender interjects as he wipes down the counter. "He's in worse shape most of the time. She always comes back in one piece."

"This time she won't!" I tell both of them, trying to pull away. "I have to stop him! I saw it happen!"

Joel cocks his head at me, trying to understand what I mean by that. "Vi, sweetheart, you're scaring me."

I squirm out of his grasp and start running, pushing the door open as hard as I can and taking off toward the stoplight. My feet hit the ground as fast as I can. I urge myself to go faster, watching as they start to grow smaller on the road ahead. I need to get there in time, but I don't know if I'll be able to.

The vehicle is coming fast as he's walking straight ahead. The brakes are so loud they echo all the way back to where I am. I'm close enough to hear the crunch of bones and Lily's short, dying scream. I'm close enough to watch them die, but far enough to be helpless.

Just seconds after it happens, I'm in the middle of the street. The driver is out and panicking, and his face is stricken in sheer horror.

"I tried to stop," he tells me. "I tried but I couldn't—"

Joel isn't too far behind me and immediately starts to redirect traffic around the wreckage. He's cool, collected, but I can't say the same. What's left of Lily's father is a mangled corpse, his blood and grey brain matter spread around what used to be his head. I couldn't care less about him.

The little girl lays limp, covered in her own blood. She's dead, but I refuse to believe it. I don't want to consider it.

"Lily?" I'm almost screaming. "Lily, please wake up."

I ignore the way her eyes are frozen and staring at nothing. I ignore the fact that she's dead as can be because I have to save her. Her limbs are bent at odd angles, wrong angles. Her whole body is shattered and I'm scared to touch her because I don't want to make it worse.

"Lily," I whimper. "Oh, no."

I feel for a pulse, coming up empty. The warmth is already leaving her, and her heart isn't coming back from this.

Joel starts pulling me away, his arms around my waist as I fight him.

"You have to let me help her!" I wail as the ambulance sirens grow closer. It's just my luck that we'd be so close to a hospital, yet both of them are gone.

"You can't," he says. "Vi, you can't."

"She can't be dead!" I smack at his chest, trying to run back to her.

Joel strokes my hair, trying to whisper to me in an attempt to help me stay grounded, but I'm nowhere near calm enough to hear him.

"I hate you!" I kick him as hard as I can, but he doesn't release me. "I hate you! I hate you! Let me go!"

"You don't mean that, Vi," he whispers, his voice breaking, his heart breaking, for me and for the little girl. "Vi, calm down. Please."

He talks me through it, holding me in his arms, pulled up close to his chest. Eventually, when I'm breathing evenly again, Joel gives the officer his witness statement. Apparently, everyone at the NYPD knows us, and especially him as the man who protected me from a murderer.

He is a hero. I might've been too if I was fast enough to save Lily.

Joel tells him that I'll call tomorrow to provide information when I'm feeling better. I'm not sure I will, but at the moment I'm still reeling. Nothing makes sense. I'm caught in a burst of adrenaline and grief.

This didn't just happen. No. No way. It's not fair.

I'm ghostly and robotic, staring straight ahead at nothing when Joel finally breaks the silence. We're alone in the parking lot, and there's nowhere for me to go to avoid the confrontation.

"I won't take a lie from you," he says, to preface the statement. "So give it to me straight, Vi."

I'm not crying anymore. I've run out of tears. At this moment, I can't mask anything, and I have a feeling I'm going to wish that was different when he says whatever it is he's about to say.

"You said you saw it," he continues. "What do you mean by that?"

I swallow hard. This is it. He will be the second person to know about my powers, and there's no telling how he'll take it, or even if he'll believe me.

He's too good to be true, and I'm about to obliterate whatever is between us.

He waits expectantly, and I struggle to say anything, anything at all. I can't lie, but I can't exactly tell the truth either. Not with any hope of him understanding.

"Well?" he prompts.