The plane finally lands at Los Angeles after two hours of a restless flight.

I wrap my cardigan tightly on my chest as I head to the baggage claim, my skin easily succumbing to a strange cold despite the Californian sun that regards me rather harshly. I take my bags and storm out, so desperate to be home.

"Where to?" asks the driver of the first taxi I came across.

"Venice," I utter.

My head feels heavy and I can't stop thinking of everything that has happened on this trip. I try to ignore the ache in my heart but the memories are still intact in my heart and soul, taking me back to Montana, and then to Miami, and my heart stirs again.

Photograph by Ed Sheeran starts playing in the car, urging my eyes to shut as if the radio is mocking me. And Liam occupies my mind until I reach home. How will my life be now that I'm back to where I belong? Will things remain the same as before?

I do nothing for the next two days other than thinking, crying at times, and sleeping. Eating as properly as I should has become a difficult endeavor, and I find solace in disconnecting from the world at the moment. My phone has been off but I believe I need to snap out of this.

So today I decide to push myself out of this confinement I call my house, as it's twelve in the afternoon and my life needs to go on. I stretch up and yawn, not sure where to begin if my whole body feels heavy and weak. I get up and stretch the curtains apart, letting the sunlight in.

Everything around is in a big mess, and I'm out of anything edible. I exhale heavily, holding the door of my refrigerator that stares back at me gloomily. All I see is a bottle of water and a container of Greek yogurt. I need to do grocery shopping.

"You can't be a total loser, Kira Jones," I murmur to myself. "You can do this." I sigh and veer back to my bedroom.

Honestly, I really want to regain control of my life but things keep throwing me off the cliff. I kept dreaming of my past for two nights, consecutively. It's as if the pieces are trying to fit together as I had a further recollection of the accident scene.

I discerned that other than my family there was a woman riding with us, together with her son. But I can't clearly recall. Exhausted, I slowly lay down on the couch, thinking of the mystery. I wonder if there's something important to remember that keeps replaying over and over again.

Maybe I've been missing something important.

I spend the rest of the day on the couch, watching whatever that crosses my eyes, my mind miles away. I try hard to forget about the trip and all the events, but my efforts are incessantly in vain. Everything haunts me, taking me back in time, urging me to think of nothing but him.

Only him.

The following day I get up at the sunshine piercing through the window that I accidentally forgot to shut last night. The TV is still on as I hear the 'Good morning Hollywood' show ending, and I think I need to face the music.

However, before I can do anything, I hear a knock at the door. It's a bit startling given that I haven't told anyone of my arrival. Who could it be? I quickly put on a sleeping robe over my tiny nightdress and go see who's at my doorstep.

When I ask, it's my neighbor's voice that responds.

I slide the door wider and say, "Amelia. How are you?"

Her chubby cheeks puff up as she smiles at me, looking as charming as ever. "I'm okay," she replies, but her sass wears off immediately. "Although I can't say the same thing about you. Didn't you have a nice vacation?" Her gaze intensifies as she studies me keenly.

Well . . . I didn't know I'm such an open book.

"How can you tell? Is it your spirits again?" I force the little humor left in me, leaning onto the door frame with hands folded across my chest.

"Oh, honey, I don't need any psychic power to notice the dark cloud surrounding your usually bright self," she tells me a little sadly. I lift a stunned eyebrow and she laughs a bit. "Well, I was only passing by and I thought I should at least say hello to my beautiful neighbor. I actually saw the lights on yesterday and I probed you might be in."

"Oh, that was very nice of you, Amelia," I reply softly, meaning it. "I'm glad you're doing okay, and still so bright."

"Oh, you're flattering me." Amelia blushes, waving her hand modestly.

I'm happy that at least one person is still a part of my dull life.

But before I let her leave, I suddenly remember my mysterious dream that surely needs some explanations. I think she is the perfect person to consult, even though I'm not sure if it's a good idea or not to believe in her kind of stuff.

"Amelia, there's something I'd like to ask you," I say, trying hard not to sound desperate. She gives me an assenting look. "It's kind of crazy, I hope you won't find it absurd."

"What is it?" she queries.

I take a long breath before replying, "I don't know if you'll believe me." I'm hesitant, and she notices right away, but stays calm. "It's . . ." I end up scratching my messy-looking curls.

"Kira, try me," Amelia urges with an encouraging smile, calming my worries down. She alters her stance into more comfort. "I've seen a lot of craziness and absurdity in this world, dear, but it doesn't necessarily mean they don't make sense. So whatever it is, I'll listen." She smiles so kindly that my heart melts.

"Okay. Come in." I lead her inside and we get ourselves seated. "I'm sorry about the mess. I promised myself to clean up today so let's hope my stubborn self will hear," I say, referring to my untidy living room.

"I get it," Amelia answers knowingly, a teasing smile on her face.

After a sigh and heedless hesitation, I finally tell Amelia about my dream in connection to Liam, and all of our secret involvements from the moment I saw him until the end. The redhead listens to me attentively, as though she's a doctor paying attention to her patient.

"So, what do you think?" I ask in the end, my eyes hopeful. "Is it just me, or there's more to it than what it seems?"

Amelia exhales heavily, resting her elbows on the pillow that's on her lap. She takes her time to think, and I swallow hard like a child waiting for a late night dinner, my curiosity going wilder at each breath she takes.

"In my ten years of experience in spiritualism, I've come to learn some things about dreams," she says haltingly. "It's not merely a revelation of our subconscious like how empirical science explains it." She stares intently at me, her green eyes unreadable. "It's more than that, especially when they repeat themselves over and over again, like in your case."

"Oh?" I mutter quietly.

Amelia continues explaining to me about different kinds of dreams and what triggers them. I listen carefully, somehow enjoying the subject. I gather that she must've studied a lot about her profession; given how detailed she is on the subject.

"And where does my dream fall in those categories?" I ask.

"It may have been a premonition." She smiles, and I frown in confusion.

"Premonition? Is that even a real thing?" I frown.

"Yes." Amelia sounds serious. "You were probably bound to meet that man, and it's what happened. I don't believe you're crazy, Kira, and you shouldn't either. Sometimes fate works in a mysterious way that can't be easily explained—impossible even—but it doesn't mean it's not real."

I don't know what to make out of this. In fact, I feel even more confused right now. I mean, why didn't I meet Liam at the restaurant instead? Or anywhere that doesn't involve Sam in the picture that resulted into betrayal, lies, and secrets?

"You love him, don't you?" Amelia asks out of the blue, her eyes reflecting my sadness. I swallow hard without answering her query, and she contrives regretfully, "Oh, forgive me. I'm being a bit nosy right now, huh?"

"Of course not." A soft chuckle leaves my lips. "I'm glad to talk to you about it because I have no else for that matter."

"Oh, I'm glad. I can be pretty nosy," Amelia utters, and I burst out laughing. "You didn't meet him by chance, Kira. I can see it clearly and so you shouldn't condemn yourself too much." She now sounds serious.

"You think?" My eyes narrow.

"There has to be a reason why you met him, and it's always not what we can easily imagine," she explains. "But perhaps you do have a clue, Kira. A very definite answer that you don't want to see."

"Do I?" I mutter, and she bursts into giggles at the expense of my dumb expression.

"You're smarter than you think," Amelia remarks, teasing me. "I wish I could give you the answers, but I can't." She smiles tightly, and I suddenly get an idea.

"Do you have your tarot cards with you?" I ask. Amelia looks surprised, and I can't blame her given that I'm as surprised myself.

Why do I need that now? I don't even believe in that kind of stuff.

"Why? Would you like me to read you?" Amelia queries, but I'm still skeptical.

A part of me wants to try it, while another finds the idea absurd.

"Um . . . no." I shake my head disagreeably.

"Are you sure?" Amelia asks me yet again, and it seriously gets me.

The truth is . . . I'm so desperate.

"Alright," I utter, "let's do it."

Amelia takes a deck of cards from her bag and begins shuffling them swiftly. It's incredible how passionate she looks in her element, utterly concentrated. I press my lips together, anxiously.

"Okay, pick whatever in each deck," she says, pointing at the three decks of cards lying on the table.

I take a deep breath before complying. I pick one card from each, randomly, while swallowing the bile in my throat. I can't believe I'm doing this.

"Done." I lean heavily against the cushion, letting Amelia do the checking while my intestine twists inside.

I watch her facial expressions as her eyes and brain seem to be working transcendently. A frown appears when she finally lifts her big and green round eyes up at me. I remain neutral, masking my restlessness by clearing my throat.

But my heart beats capriciously as I imagine what's going on inside Amelia's head. I wonder what those damn cards blabber about my rotten fate, too. When Amelia grants me a look at last, I sit straight.

"You must've been so terrified at such a young age," she tells me, her face serious. She's focused. "Your past looks dark; full of pain, loneliness, and fear." She frowns hard.

"Is that all?" I'm fully aware of my horror as a child.

"You're feeling lost at the moment," she says with her eyes on the cards. "You don't know whether you've made the right choices or not, and you keep blaming yourself every time things go wrong with you, and even with those around you." She continues flipping the cards, inflicting me Goosebumps.

That's my biggest flaw.

"Okay, that's creepy. How do you know such details?" I huff.

"You don't need to worry, Kira. Whatever happened wasn't your fault," she whispers gently, ignoring my innuendo. "It was meant to happen. Nothing and no one could've prevented it."

I sigh softly at the sound of that. I feel a little taken aback. It's as if she can see through me, and all that I'm going through. I gradually relax, indulging my attention into the words she spits.

I'd like to know what to expect, but is it possible to know the future?