The wind rippled through the wheat, making the stalks sway. Lola stretched out her fingers, brushing them lightly against the golden ears. She lifted her face, letting it bask in the sunlight. She felt... free.

Something cracked open deep inside her, and a rush of pure joy filled every cell in her body. She laughed and twirled around, then let herself fall back into the grass. Through the stalks above her, she looked up at the bright blue sky, where a few fluffy clouds drifted lazily. She tried to make out shapes in them. Loops that formed unreadable letters, winged creatures. Birds, with long sweeping wings.

Suddenly, they tore themselves free from the clouds. Their feathers turned pitch black, their eyes flared red like embers.

With a jolt, Lola sat up. The wheat that had danced peacefully moments ago curled around her legs, holding her in place.

She screamed.

The birds—monstrous crows—swooped down on her, tearing the flesh from her bones.

Through the monsters, she caught a glimpse of a blood-red sky. A white horse had appeared. It reared up, and on its back sat a figure clad in black, a scythe in his hand.

Beneath the hood of his cloak, something glinted.

A wide, white grin.

"Your time has come, Lola."

Lola shot upright. Her whole body burned, and she lashed out, screaming, as if to fight off the birds. Her heart pounded so hard and fast it felt like it might burst through her chest.

"Lola!" Someone beside her sat up quickly. "Hey. It's okay. Just a nightmare."

A hand touched her shoulder, then arms wrapped around her, pulling her into a warm chest.

Even though her nightdress was drenched in sweat, she shivered in his embrace. She blinked furiously to clear the haze of tears. Slowly, the frantic pounding of her heart began to ease.

Soft lips brushed her temple. Phantom. "It's okay," he whispered. "You're safe. It was just a dream."

Not just a dream. Lola felt it deep in her bones.

Ever since Isabèl had flipped that tarot card and Death had stared her down.

"Despite what people say, Death isn't a negative card, Lo. You don't need to look so pale. It's about transformation. About breaking old habits, shedding your skin."

But those red eyes had locked onto hers. Whatever Isabèl said, Lola didn't need the explanation. It had been a warning.

And a week later, Isabèl was dead.

Even though she had been the one meant to be in that car.

Lola wiped her eyes and took a shaky breath. Safe in his strong arms, she felt the fear begin to ebb away. This—this was what she had hoped for. Someone who could protect her from the shadows that had been stalking her for months.

She might have narrowly escaped death, but she was sure he wasn't done with her yet.

Phantom stroked her hair. She couldn't begin to explain how grateful she was that he was here. That she wasn't alone now, like all those other nights Death had visited her dreams.

That he didn't expect anything from her, no intimacy like most men probably would—that felt so insignificant now.

Leaning against his shoulder, she looked up at him. "Sorry," she whispered. "Maybe I should've warned you about the nightmares."

He tucked a damp strand of hair behind her ear. "Have you had them long? That was... intense. I've had nightmares too, but that was next level."

She dropped her gaze. She felt a little ashamed at how much that tarot card had gotten under her skin. Most people didn't believe in that stuff. She hadn't either—until it was too late.

Phantom didn't strike her as someone who'd believe in that kind of thing, but somehow, she was sure he wouldn't laugh at her either. There was a tenderness in his eyes that made her think he'd listen to any story, no matter how crazy.

"Since a tarot reading," she mumbled. "Four months ago. I pulled the Death card and something... something just sank its icy claws into me."

There was so much more to tell. About Isabèl. The accident.

That bottomless pit she'd fallen into. Her father's disgusting reaction.

But how was she supposed to put all of that into words? Would it even help? She wasn't naïve enough to think the awful feeling would just go away on its own.

"Isabèl—my best friend, who did the reading—tried to convince me it wasn't negative. That the card just meant it was time for a personal transformation. To let go of old habits. But I..." Her voice broke. She clutched the blanket in her fists. "I knew it was something else. That I'd... opened myself to something unnatural."

She paused, waiting to see his reaction.

He didn't scoff. He didn't let go.

It gave her the courage to go on.

"A week later, we had a family dinner. It had been a crazy week and I still needed to pick up a package. I planned to do it on the way to my parents', but because of a stupid public transport strike, I got stuck in the city center. I called Isa and asked if she could grab it, or else it would be returned. She went—using my car, since she didn't have one—and she... she..." Her lip trembled. She rubbed her itchy eyes. "She got hit. Another car rammed her. She died instantly. And I know—if it weren't for that strike, I would've been in that car. And since then..." She drew in another shaky breath and squeezed her eyes shut, trying to stay composed.

"Fuck. That's awful." Phantom took her hand in his, squeezing it tight. "What happened to her is horrible. And I get why you link it to that card." He was quiet for a moment. His steady breathing filled the silence. "But do you really think you would've been there at the exact same time?"

She pressed her lips together. That's where the paranoia had started. No, logically, it was a long shot. But she knew it. "I know it sounds crazy," she whispered, her gaze dropping. A tear that had clung to her lash finally fell, tracing a line down her cheek. "But yeah. I do."

"Do you think someone did it on purpose? That someone was targeting you? Because it sounds like you don't believe it was just a tragic accident."

She bit her lip. She'd never really considered that. No, she didn't believe it was just bad luck. But to say someone actually wanted her dead? That seemed far-fetched. She couldn't imagine why anyone would want her gone—unless it had something to do with her father. He had power, sure, and no doubt plenty of enemies. But everyone knew he despised her. Saw her as the family disgrace.

"Have you ever seen Final Destination?"

Phantom hummed. "Yeah, ages ago. That group of people who escape death, and then death comes back for them, one by one, right?"

A shiver crawled down her spine. Her damp nightdress felt cold now. "Exactly. That's how it feels. Like I slipped through his claws, and now he's watching me, waiting for another shot. That's why I moved to this place. Away from the city. From my apartment."

She sat up straighter, turning more toward him. The light from his bedside lamp didn't reach his face, but his features were set, serious. He was listening. Really listening. That meant more to her than she could ever explain. She laid her free hand over his. "I never thought I'd be able to tell anyone this without being called crazy."

Phantom shrugged. "I've never been able to rule out that there's more between heaven and earth than what we can see. Sometimes... I talk to my brother. My mom. And I always feel like they can hear me, even if they can't answer."

His brother, his mother. He'd never talked about them before. "Are they gone?" she asked softly. His words implied it, but she wanted to be sure. Maybe they just lived on the other side of the world or something.

Phantom nodded slowly. "Have you tried getting help? I don't necessarily mean therapy—though that might not hurt—but like, a priest or something? Or I don't know... some Wiccan stuff?"

"No," she admitted. "I've just tried to push it down as far as I can." She studied the shadows on his face. "But you believe it's real? That I'm not imagining it?"

"I don't think it really matters what I believe. You believe it, right? And it's eating away at your sleep, so you have to do something about it. It must be exhausting to constantly look over your shoulder. And I imagine it makes it even harder to process your best friend's death."

Yeah. It did. "Do you want to come with me?" she asked softly. "To one of those churches?"
They had experience with exorcisms there, didn't they? Maybe that was it—maybe a demon had set its sights on her. That felt more reliable than cobbling together advice from the internet.

"Of course." He kissed her temple, and she threw her arms around him with such force that he lost his balance and toppled over.

She curled up against him, resting her ear on his chest. She kept listening to the calm rhythm of his heartbeat until she fell asleep again.