Page 8 of What Remains

Camila, who’s like a sister to Carter, also had prophetic visions. She spent years searching for a remedy so she could touch people again without seeing their future. From Tibet to New Zealand and everywhere in between, she never gave up on her mission to find help.

Earlier this year, she was finally successful after a trip to the Jordan Rift Valley. She gave Elaina the choice: visions or peace.

“I made the right decision, yeah?” Elaina asks softly, and it pains me she’s still questioning herself. “Taking this medicine is the right call?”

I set aside the Oreo and rest my hand on her forearm and squeeze. “Your visions almost killed you.”

“I gave Mom and Dad a heart attack, I know.” She pulls her mouth to the side. “But how many people may lose their lives because I’m taking this drug and can’t save them?”

“If you die, you can’t save anyone. And you still have the option to stop taking it later on in life if you change your mind, but⁠—”

“We both know what happened when Camila tried to stop taking her medicine.” She grimaces.

“She went off them cold turkey to try and help with a case. Gotta wean off them like most medicines, I assume.” Not that I want her to consider stopping her meds anytime soon, but I can understand why one day she might want to use her vision-gifts again.

“Yeah, I get it, I guess. I need to be a kid.” Her voice remains small. “But what if those visions came from God? Does that mean I’m disobeying by . . .?”

She lets her words fall, and they might as well have slipped deep down into the cracks of the earth, because I have no clue what to say.

I may be over a decade older than her, but she seems to have way more figured out than I do. I’m still battling my own demons.

“You helped all the people you were meant to save,” is the best I can give her.

“I might be able to find Easton if I was still able to see things.” Her tone switches from somber to lighthearted again. “That is who you’re looking for, right?”

“I know you know.” I let go of her. “Because I do tell you way too much.”

“Have you tried asking Carter where he’s at? Carter must have an emergency escape plan for them if their covers are ever blown, right?”

“Carter’s a steel trap. If I’m not on the op, I don’t get to know anything,” I grumble, miserable about that fact. “But, um . . . do you think Easton and Zoey will get married married when their mission ends?” I’ve only imagined that scenario happening a hundred times. “He loves brainy, badass beauties.”

“And what are you?” She gives me a dramatic eye roll. Award-worthy, really.

“Well, if something happens with Zoey, I guess it’s meant to be.” I open my rig, no use in hiding the truth from her now. “He did walk away from me and went straight to her.”

“Ouch.”

Exactly.

“He’s just confused and hurting. Blaming himself for the accident.” She wrings her hands together. “I still feel at fault, too. If I hadn’t been taking my meds, maybe I’d have been able to warn you two?”

I rest a hand on top of her clasped ones. “Nope. Don’t you dare go there. You hear me? Not. Your. Fault. We’ve been through this before.”

Like Easton, she just won’t listen to me about this. The two make a pair, trying to shoulder burdens that aren’t theirs to carry.

“Now,” I say while squeezing her top hand, “tell me something that’ll make us both laugh. We need it.”

The hint of a smile is a welcome sight.

“What is it?”

She lifts one shoulder. “Well, I did go on my first real date not too long ago. Dad finally gave in. I earned his trust back after going through that rebellious phase last year.”

“That phase almost got you killed.”

“In all fairness, my sneaking around helped take a bad guy off the streets.”

I’m going to have an ulcer all over again just thinking about what happened to her. Elaina was secretly talking to a guy on Instagram—who was not a teenager like he said he was—and a vision of him dying is why we almost lost her.