Eris stared at Alex, her breathing shallow, her mind a whirlwind of confusion and alarm. His words echoed in her head: I know your future.
The room seemed to close in on her. For a fleeting moment, she thought he might be lying—playing some cruel trick—but her ability to infer truth, a skill she rarely had to consciously activate, stirred within her. She focused, drawing on it instinctively, and Alex's words reverberated back to her with a resounding clarity.
He was telling the truth.
Her grip on the armrest tightened, her knuckles whitening. "What do you mean by that?" she demanded, her voice lower and sharper, cutting through the tension in the room.
Alex's eyes softened, and he crossed his arms. "Exactly what I said. I know your future—or, at least, what it's supposed to be."
"Supposed to be?" she repeated, her tone laced with skepticism. "Are you saying my future isn't set in stone?"