Sawyer made a pot of coffee and set it down on the table between the two women before leaning against the counter. He was trying to look casual and failing, but the women were too distracted to notice anyway.
“I don’t really know where to start,” Elizabeth reached for the coffee, glancing for a moment at the clock on the wall and realising Sawyer had made it in anticipation of a long night.
“Start where you usually do. The beginning. When was the first time you had a vision? Did you know what it was at the time?”
“The first one was a couple of months ago. It happened the first time I saw Sawyer,” she interrupted herself, “I do know who he is. I know what he did to me. I mean the first time I saw him like this. I didn’t know anything supernatural really existed back then. It never crosse
