For Nevermore Season 1

her?”
    How is this possible?
    Noella took another step back and lost herself to another whimper. Then she swallowed hard and said, “Yes, I knew her.”
    Josie turned from the screen, then stared into the horror of Noella’s face. “Oh my God, honey, are you alright?”
    Noella started to cry. “I’m sorry,” she whimpered.
    How did I know Katie was dead? Did I see it actually happening?
    Was I actually there?
    Josie jumped from the couch and ran to Noella’s side, hugging her tight and telling her everything would be fine. Noella stared at nothing, letting Josie believe she was mourning a fellow student’s loss rather than her own sanity.

    **

    Noella felt like a ghost, simply going through the motions as she sat at the breakfast table, poking her eggs with a fork and an absence of appetite.
    Josie entered the kitchen, dressed in her smock and ready for work. “Are you sure you’re going to be okay alone?”
    “Of course,” Noella nodded. “I’m fine.”
    Josie smiled at Noella, as though she knew exactly how untrue that actually was, then pulled Noella into a giant hug. “I’m sorry. I wouldn’t go in, but they’re already shorthanded and I can’t call in on such short notice. You’re still owed a birthday,” she said. “I haven’t forgotten. I’ll be home by 4 and we can hit the Olive Garden. How’s that sound?”
    That was almost enough to make Noella smile. She loved The Olive Garden, but Randy hated it. The last time she’d asked to go, he said, “Olive Garden is crap, crap, and mega crap. How they can even call it Italian food is beyond me. The only decent thing they have are the bread sticks and salad. All the rest is crap. You want Italian food, find a restaurant with some Italians in the kitchen. Otherwise you two can drop me off in the alley and I’ll go dumpster diving while you eat the trash inside.”
    “We don’t have to go to the Olive Garden,” Noella said, since Randy had been so nice last night. “How about Red Lobster?”
    Red Lobster wasn’t one of Randy’s favorites, but he didn’t hate it like he did Olive Garden, and there was a steak on the menu he could tolerate fine.
    Josie said, “Sounds perfect!” then kissed Noella on the cheek, grabbed her keys from the hook, threw on her jacket, and pulled out of the driveway a minute later.
    Noella went into the living room, picked up the remote, then plopped onto the couch, pointing the remote at the screen on her way to the cushion.
    But she didn’t care what was on the screen a bit.
    The remote fell from her fingers as Noella slowly rose from the couch, then raced toward the living room window. The Element was back in the driveway across the street which had been naked just a moment before.
    She had to see him.
    She had to stare in the eyes of her dreams.
    She had to know if she was insane, or whether the whispers inside her were real.
    Someone had saved her. She’d seen someone in the bedroom window across the street. If not Dante of her dreams, then maybe some other version. But he was real, and the morgue had a dead body to prove it.
    Now it was time to find out who was watching her. Who her guardian was.
    Noella ran upstairs and threw on her best sweater, then traded her comfy sweats for jeans, then back downstairs and outside.
    She trotted across the street, nervous but eager.
    She wasn’t sure how she’d introduce herself if anyone other than Dante appeared in the door. “Hi, does the man from my dreams with some kind of magical powers live here?”
    No, that probably wouldn’t work.
    Noella couldn’t explain any of the things that were happening, inside her head or behind the walls of her life. She had a million questions and no answers. But if anyone did have answers, it would be Dante, or whoever it was that lived across the street from her.
    She headed up the walkway and to the front door she’d been by a hundred times if not 200, when Sam lived there.
    Every answer was just beyond the door.
    Noella rang the doorbell, anxiously rubbing her hands against her sides as she stared at the red door and waited.
    The door swung open a second later. A small brunette girl, maybe eight, with bright blue eyes stood in the doorway, looking up and smiling at Noella. Behind her, stood a woman with long dark hair who appeared to be the girl’s mom.
    “Hi,” the girl said, smiling a big, friendly smile.
    Noella swallowed, then said, “Hi, I’m Noella. I live across the street.” She turned and pointed