chapter 22.

Jannie said she could lend me a bed until my housing situation was figured out, while dad offered up the other bed in the motel room he was checking in to. I didn't want to inconvenience Jannie for long, but I knew dad needed some time to himself to work through his stress – his brow had been furrowed since hearing the news of the fire as well as seeing the damage for himself, and there were thin lines pressed into his skin around his mouth. There wasn't a nerve in dad's body that wasn't tense at this point, and I knew he would be knocking back more than a couple of beers through the evening.

The fire chief, Andrew Goldstein, said it wasn't safe to go into the house to retrieve anything due to the smoke, it would be a few days until the worst of it dissipated so we would be forced to wait. Jannie, again, offered up some clothes and other hygiene products to keep me covered until then. I hadn't heard from John since he went to the building center, which was odd because he wasn't supposed to take long. I figured I'd call him later, it wasn't doing me any good by standing around at the house as I watched some of the firemen pull down part of the siding of the house to make sure that all of their bases were covered. I hated seeing my childhood home get torn apart, trying to rid the thought of all my nostalgia going up in flames. For the first time in my life I was thankful for Frank Moon and that he had called emergency services as quickly as he did.

After I showered and prepared the guest bed that Jannie had for me, I gave Elaine a quick call to let her know that I wouldn't be coming over to visit her today. She was shocked to hear the news, mentioning that some people were talking about it but she didn't know that it happened to be my house. She expressed disbelief that something so awful could happen, but mostly she was glad to know that I wasn't in the house at the time. She told me she loved me just before she hung up and told me not to worry about coming tomorrow, but I assured her otherwise. Spending time with Elaine was one of my favourite things to do, and regardless if I was feeling awful today, tomorrow was a new day.

It was barely six in the evening and I was already exhausted, my thoughts spinning with everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours. I had gotten drunk for my first time and kissed John, then my house almost burnt to the ground. My first thought was – what next? But I convinced myself that things come in threes and not fours, and tried not to worry myself too much. Except I couldn't get the purple mug that Mahala had brought into Nancy's Diner out of my head, no matter how many times I tried to focus on something else like how soft John's lips were and the fact that for once in my life I did something daring, but everything kept coming back to that darn mug. I couldn't figure out why my thoughts kept swirling around the image of Mahala holding it, dipping a tea bag in and out of the water as the waitstaff scolded her for bringing in an outside drink to their establishment. There was no way she could have gotten into my house, was there? On that same thought she had gotten into Elaine's house to leave the shoes, I was sure, so who was to say she couldn't get into my house, too?

I had enough of the questions and the image of the mug, pulling myself from the guest bed and throwing on the sweater that Jannie had lent me. I wasn't going to waste another minute, I needed to know if Mahala was responsible for the fire – and if she was, why? What good would that do her? And why was she so determined to interfere with my life?

~~~

I pulled up on the side of the road next to the red bridge, seeing the mess that had been mentioned in passing conversation in Nancy's Diner. There were red solo cups in every direction, as well as glass beer bottles, cigarette butts, and various other pieces of trash. Hopping out of my van, I made a bee-line for the slope by the bridge and found Mahala laying on one of the couches that had been left there for the party. She was balancing the purple mug on her chest, breathing gently so as to not let it fall off. Her eyes didn't once look in my direction, but a smile slowly crept on her face.

"You're keeping warm?" She said, trying not to laugh as she steadied the mug slightly with a push of her fingers.

I crossed my arms over my chest, shaking my head. "So you are responsible for the fire?"

She raised her eyebrows once, sucking in her stomach and inflating her chest for a moment as the mug wobbled back and forth before settling once more. "Which little bird told you that?"

"Don't play games with me, I've had enough. Who are you and what do you want from me?" I snapped.

She sighed, allowing the mug to topple over as she caught it before it fell to the ground, sitting up on the couch and patting the seat next to her. I didn't budge from where I was and she shrugged in return. "You don't understand much, do you?" She asked, shaking her head a few times as she turned the mug around a few times in her hands. "I fix what you break, you know that much, yes?"

"You've told me that before, but what do you think I'm breaking?"

"Fate," She growled, calming herself with a deep inhale, cracking out one side of her neck. "You want to stop him from dying, and I want to stop you from trying to stop fate. The minute you sink your fingers into the threads of time and consequences is the minute you change everything for everyone, including yourself."

"You mean saving John? So you're saying that it is possible?"

She slowly looked over and stared blankly at me, twisting her mouth around a few times as she pushed herself up from the couch. The mug dangled between her fingers, stepping towards me but I kept a good distance between us. "What if I told you that saving him wouldn't save you?"

"Why would I need to be saved?" I questioned. "I haven't seen my own death, so if I'm on the path to saving him, then I won't die."

Mahala laughed, biting her lip for a moment as she stared away at something in the distance. "That's not how it works, because your path is different," She paused, bringing her focus back to me. "You don't know much about this, do you?"

"I know enough."

"Clearly not," She muttered. "If you did, we wouldn't be here. You would know that fate takes no matter what – you must pay your dues to the universe, and if you don't do it willingly, it'll come back for blood."

"Mine?"

"Eventually," She nodded. "We all have different paths and our choices cause there to be a fork in the road for all of us. We each have two choices in a situation – this way, that way – which means the entire universe can collectively change a moment. Cause and effect, cause and effect, cause and effect," She repeated it a few more times before trailing off.

"So I have two choices in the matter – I can let John be murdered or I can stop him?"

"Yes, but then there's a due to be paid, and you would have to pay it."

"Then I would have to die in place of John?"

She didn't reply, bringing the mug up to look at it while spinning it around. I sighed as I tried to figure out everything she was saying. I hadn't seen my own death, so if what she was saying about choices having two paths, why hadn't I seen myself dying in place of John? I had only ever seen his death.

"If you won't answer that question, tell me what was the cause and effect of you starting the fire in my house?" I asked, trying to rid the thought of my family home burning up into nothing but ashes. I was thankful that it hadn't, but it still had caused an issue for dad and I.

"I'm not here to tell you my paths – my choices, that's for you to figure out on your own."

I scoffed. "Here's a suggestion, lady, maybe next time don't burn my house down? Because it's a real inconvenience."

She tossed the mug over to me, but my reflexes weren't fast enough. The mug fell down at my feet and shattered into tiny pieces all around, causing me to jump back. I shook my head at her as she shrugged in return, going back to sit down on the couch. There wasn't much more that I could say to her at this time, so I turned to leave.

"If you want to save him, you're going to have to move faster than that," She called out after me, but I continued on walking.

I was angry that she could so carelessly damage my property the way that she had, but there was no solid proof of her being responsible for the fire. All I knew was that I would have to be much more careful from here on out, especially with making sure that she didn't have any way of being near to the people that I cared about. The fact that she broke into Elaine's house was enough to make me nervous, I hated to think what else she was capable of doing. I knew now that she was going to go above and beyond to stop me from finding out who was going to kill John, but I would never be able to figure out why. Which brought the question to mind – was Mahala going to be responsible for John's murder?

I headed back to Jannie's house only to walk in while they were in the middle of dinner, seemingly the first one with Freddy. Her mom, Angelica, was pouring another glass of wine for herself while Jannie's step-dad, Jeff, was telling the story about how he went to a New York Mets game and met Jerry Seinfeld, who then shared a beer with him where Jeff tried out his stand-up routine that apparently Jerry loved. I still believe the story is fake, but we all pretend to love it because Jeff loves to tell it – over and over and over again. I could see that Jannie was embarrassed that Jeff was telling the story again, her eyes pleading with mine as I tried not to interrupt the dinner and instead make a quiet exit to the guest bedroom that I was set up in. Jeff paused as he went to follow Jannie's gaze, but I managed to slip around the wall and into the hallway leading towards the bedrooms. That was not a conversation that I felt like joining.

I found my way onto the bed and rested for quite awhile, still unable to sleep despite just how tired I was. Eventually the dinner came to an end and everyone retreated to their rooms, while Jannie slipped away to come see me. She didn't bother to knock and instead flopped down on the end of my bed, staring up at the ceiling as she placed her hands over her stomach.

"He's never going to want to see me again after this week, I swear," Jannie complained, groaning to herself. "Jeff has put an invisible chastity belt on me."

I laughed, stretching out my legs over top of her thighs. "It's probably not as bad as you think, Jan."

"No, it really is. Freddy is a cultured man – he talks about the industrial revolution as if it's small talk, not about the price of salted pretzels at a freakin' baseball game and lame Comedians from the nineties," Jannie replied, shaking her head free from the awkward dinner. She sighed, lazily turning her head towards me. "I'm sorry, doll, you've had a worse day than I have. How are you holding up?"

"Frustrated," I replied, raking my fingers through my hair, "but it's mostly an inconvenience. I have to put part of my life on hold, and I just don't have the time for that. Not to mention dad looks like he's going to have a heart-attack the next time Fletcher says something to him."

"And what about John?"

I felt myself smile, letting go of my frustration for a moment. "John is good, really good."

"Well, that's good to hear, but I meant about the premonition you had," Her voice lowered when she said the word, peeking up to make sure no one had opened the door without her realizing it. "How are you dealing with all of that?"

"I won't lie to you, Jannie, it's been eating me up. I don't know how to approach this without feeling like I'm only going to make it worse. But I do know that I want to stop it from happening, it's just that I don't know how to yet. He doesn't deserve this – no one does – there has to be some way that I can change the outcome."

"I didn't think you could do that," She said softly, her words trailing off as she sat up on her elbows. "I'm not trying to be harsh with you, Ellion, it's just that you've tried this before, right? What makes John any different from the rest?"

"Because he's dying by the hands of someone else, and I can't in good conscience let that happen, especially given that I'm the only one who can stop it."

"But everything happens for a reason, right? You told me that years ago – like when my dad died. You said it has to happen this way, otherwise it will find another way," Jannie said. She was right, I had said that. But now that Mahala had said there were more choices, more paths – maybe there was some way to outsmart it. She waited for me to respond, pushing herself up from the bed. "You're telling me that you may have been able to save my dad?"

I shook my head. I really didn't know whether I could have or not, but maybe it was possible. Maybe it's been possible all along. She looked frustrated, biting her cheek for a moment as she stared down at her feet. "So what makes John more important than my dad? Is he more important than Elaine or any of the others whose deaths you've seen?"

"You've misunderstood me, Jannie, that's not what I'm saying at all," I replied, sitting up on the side of the bed. "I don't even know if it's possible to save John, but I have to try, don't I?"

I could tell she was hurt, trying to hold back tears as she looked away from me. "You should've tried years ago," She mumbled before leaving the room.

I felt awful, but I didn't have any idea that I could change the future – and I wasn't sure if I even could at this point. But if I was able to, I could save more than just John. The guilt of not being able to save the others before him would always weigh on my mind.