Chapter One: The Crash
Beep. Beep. Beep.
The sound dragged Evelyn Carter back to consciousness like an anchor pulling her up from dark waters. The steady rhythm of the cardiograph was the first thing she recognized—each electronic pulse a reminder that she was alive, though her body felt anything but.
Her eyelids fluttered open, the fluorescent lights above stinging like needles. The world came into focus in fractured pieces: the sterile white ceiling, the IV line snaking into her arm, the stiff hospital sheets clinging to her damp skin. Every breath ached. Every heartbeat sent a dull throb through her skull.
Where am I?
The thought moved sluggishly through her mind, weighed down by something thicker than confusion.
"Ms. Carter?" A voice—soft but urgent.
Evelyn turned her head, the motion sending a spike of pain down her neck. A nurse stood beside the bed, her warm brown eyes creased with relief. A faded ink stain smudged the sleeve of her scrubs, her name tag reading L. Hayes.
"Welcome back," Hayes said, offering a tired smile.
Back from where?
The memories came then, sharp and sudden—like shards of glass cutting through fog.
Rain.
She'd been driving home late, the storm rolling in fast, turning the roads into black mirrors. Her windshield wipers struggled against the downpour—thwap-thwap-thwap—a frantic, uneven beat beneath the static-laced pop song crackling from the radio.
Then—movement.
A shadow.
Not an animal. Not debris.
Something worse.
Her hands clenched the wheel, knuckles bone-white. The headlights of her car cut through the darkness, painting the wet asphalt in streaks of gold—
—just as another pair of headlights swerved into her lane.
Brighter. Closer.
Too close.
Time didn't slow. It splintered.
The screech of tires. The deafening crunch of metal.
Her body jerked forward, the seatbelt slicing into her collarbone. Her head snapped sideways—
Crack.
The window exploded. Glass rained down like jagged diamonds.
The world spun—or maybe it was the car flipping, rolling, metal screaming as it crumpled. The airbag punched her in the face, the acrid taste of chemicals flooding her mouth.
And then—
Silence.
Darkness.
Nothing.
Until now.
"You've been in a coma for six weeks," Hayes said, adjusting the IV drip. The liquid inside glinted under the harsh lights. "You're lucky to be alive."
Evelyn tried to speak, but her throat was raw, her voice a broken whisper. The nurse pressed a cup of water into her hands, the cold biting against her cracked lips.
Then—
A flash.
Like lightning behind her eyes.
She saw it—Hayes stumbling, the clipboard slipping from her grip, papers scattering across the floor.
A second later—
Clatter.
The clipboard hit the ground. Papers flew. Hayes cursed under her breath, cheeks flushing as she bent to pick them up.
Evelyn's breath caught.
No. That's not possible.
She had seen that. Before it happened.
Before she could process it, the door swung open. A doctor stepped in—salt-and-pepper hair, crisp white coat, a penlight already in hand.
And Evelyn knew what he would say before he spoke.
"Good to see you awake, Ms. Carter. Let's run some tests."
Exactly the words she'd heard in her head.
Her pulse spiked, the monitor beside her bed beeping faster.
This wasn't déjà vu.
This wasn't a hallucination.
She could see the future.