Thorn sorted through the stuffed animals on Danielle’s bed before picking up a pink bunny and hugging it, her eyes closed tight with concentration.

“I’ve never done this before,” she murmured. “Not with a person.”

“It can’t be that different than finding a fencing grip or lost keys.”

“Oh, it’s different.” She frowned and drifted off somewhere with her mind. Long seconds had gone by before she finally spoke. “It’s faint—a sense of distance.”

“How far?”

“More than a mile, but I don’t know how much more. It’s not working!” She threw the pink bunny down. “I’m trying, really, but it isn’t just a game, it’s real life … or death. I’m not sure she’s—she’s still—”

“Don’t even think that! You’re the one who says to be positive, so follow your own advice. Try harder—you can do it.”

“Maybe if I hold something she’s touched recently.” She picked up the envelope Danielle’s father had discarded, and ran her fingers over the scrawled writing on the front.

“Well?” I asked impatiently.

“This is better. She’s somewhere familiar to her, a place that used to make her feel happy … now there’s only despair.”

“Evan’s house?” I guessed.

“Could be—but it doesn’t feel like a house. A large open place, grassy with benches.” She rubbed her forehead, wincing as if feeling pain.

“A park?”

“No, that doesn’t feel right. There’s some kind of school connection.”

“The school quad? It’s grassy and there are benches. But I doubt she’d go there.”

“Are you sure?”

I bit my lip. How could I be sure of anything? If anyone had told me that Danielle was suicidal, I wouldn’t have believed that either. I’d gotten warnings, saw the bloody dragonfly. I should have known, been a better friend, tried to help her.

You are helping, Opal assured. Open up your mind and trust yourself.

And just like that, I got it. A lightning flash burst in my head, and I saw rows of tiered benches and a field of rough grass. A small shape lay crumpled on the dirt.

“Not benches—bleachers!” I jumped excitedly. “I know where Danielle is!”

“You do?” Thorn asked.

“At the school. You were right about that.” I said grimly. “We have to get there before it’s too late—if it isn’t already!”

Night had fallen, and when we hurried back to Dominic’s truck, he had the lights on and the motor running. After a quick explanation, Thorn and I hopped inside and Dominic revved the engine. We sped toward the school. No one complained when Dominic pushed us past the legal limit.

I hoped that Dominic had an army of angels guiding him because he didn’t stop, only paused for a quick look, before speeding through two stop signs. Tires screeched as Dominic pulled into the school, not turning for the student parking lot, but roaring to the front lot reserved for teachers and buses.

“The football field!” I breathed out. “She’s there—by the bleachers, where she watched Evan.”

Thorn told us to go after her, while she’d get help. Dominic and I didn’t slow down, racing around buildings, breathing hard, feet pounding on pavement. We headed for the bleachers—and that’s where we found her.

Lying on the dirt near the bleachers, still and fragile, blood pooling around her outstretched arm. She didn’t move and her face was deathly pale.

“Ohmygod!” I gasped hoarsely. “We’re too late!”

Dominic knelt beside her and felt for a pulse.

“Is she—?” I asked in a trembling voice.

“Not yet, but she’s in bad shape.”

I let out a huge, relieved breath. “Hold on, Danielle,” I murmured. “You’re going to be okay.”

There was no response.

Dominic ripped off the strip of leather he wore on his arm as a perch for his falcon. He wrapped it tightly around Danielle’s wrist, slowing the flow of blood.

There was sudden blinding light, and for a moment I thought angels were coming for Danielle, until I realized someone had switched on the field lights. Turning, I saw Thorn leading a young, nervous janitor over to us.

Within minutes, there was a dizzy rush of voices, sirens, and uniforms. Danielle got first aid and was then whisked away in an ambulance. I went with her, since she seemed so alone, in need of a friend. Thorn and Dominic said they’d meet us at the hospital after they answered questions from the police.

My first ride in an ambulance and I was only aware of Danielle, who was unresponsive as paramedics worked over her. There was nothing to do but watch and pray.

At the hospital, I was directed to a waiting room, where I sat numbly in a hard plastic chair. Nearby, a young mother bit her lip while she clung to a sleeping baby and an elderly man stared blankly at a television fixed high on the wall.

And I waited.

As minutes ticked slowly by on a wall clock, I thought about Danielle and how precious life was—how fragile, too. She’d been on a dangerous course for a long time, only no one had noticed. She’d been what everyone expected: perfect daughter, top student, loyal girlfriend. Yet it wasn’t enough, and somewhere along the way she lost herself. She’d kept her secrets so well, it would have been too late to save her—if it hadn’t been for my visions.

She just has to make it, I thought, still staring at the clock. I crossed my right leg, then my left. I picked up a magazine, then set it aside without looking at it. I shifted to another chair with a better view of the door. What was happening?

The door burst open, and Danielle’s father entered with a slender, black-haired woman who was obviously Danielle’s mother. The woman sank on the couch beside the couple with the baby, while Danielle’s father spotted me and came over.

“Thank you,” Mr. Crother told me.

“For what?”

“They said you found her. She’s holding on but the doctor said if she’d lost any more blood … ” His voice cracked. “That we would—would have lost our daughter.”

“I’m glad she’s okay.”

“You saved her life,” he said. “I—I just felt so useless when I read that letter. Didn’t have any idea where to look. But you found her. How did you know?”

“My friends helped. But we didn’t really know either—it was a lucky guess.”

“Or an answer to our prayers,” he said, giving my hand a tight squeeze.

I knew in that moment that I could tell him the truth about how I really found Danielle. He wouldn’t call me a freak or crazy. He would believe me.

A burden inside me lifted on wings and fluttered away. Foretelling bad things didn’t mean I’d caused them to happen—and this time I’d saved a life.