50
“Have you ever had a vision?” Ginny asks me.
“I’m … not sure what you mean.”
“A glimpse of the future. Of the way something might be.”
I consider telling her about my experience with remote sensing. About how I saw Halli as she was about to die. But it’s too long to explain. I go with a simple, “Yes.”
“Then you must also know that nothing is permanent,” Ginny says. “You can see what might happen, but sometimes you still have the chance to change it.”
I’ve never thought of my remote sensing as a vision, but I definitely understand what Ginny is describing. I changed Halli’s future—and mine.
“I saw her,” Ginny says. “Laid out in a bedroom where we were staying in India. She was dead. She’d eaten something contaminated. It killed her within just a few hours.”
“But what about you?”
