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"Do you want to talk about it?"
Her flat tone was its own answer. Still he pursued it, unable to help himself. "This nightmare that keeps recurring. What's it about?" "Murder."
The stark reply had him freezing. "Whose murder?"
This time she did look at him and her eyes...Her eyes still held glimpses of horror in their depths. "Mine."
When she would have gone back to tidying their gear, he rose, went to her side and pulled her up with a hand to her arm. "Cassie, if you've been troubled by this nightmare for a long time, maybe you need to talk to someone to find out what it means."
"I know exactly what it means." Her voice was lifeless. "I've always known. Disengaging herself from his grip, she bent, handed him his pack. Because he couldn't think of anything else to do, he took it.
"There are doctors who specialize in sleep disorders."
"Ah, science again." Her voice was mocking. "This isn't something that science can cure. All the medications in the world, all the shrinks in the country can't prevent the inevitable from occurring."
At her words, comprehension began creeping in. "You can't believe..."
"I never had a dream that didn't come true. Not ever. Not when I dreamed of Hawk breaking an arm falling out of the hay mow. Not when it was you, shot in a foreign country in the middle of the night. They all happen, Shane, and there's nothing that can change that."
"It's just a dream. It's not real."
Immediately he knew it was the wrong thing to say. He'd have known even if her body hadn't gone stiff again, if she hadn't straightened and moved away from him. He felt a flare of anger. He couldn't pretend to believe something he didn't. Even as he knew, when she snapped on her flashlight and started through the forest without another word, that the distance between them hadn't been been spanned in the slightest.
If anything, it yawned even greater than before.
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