Zach reached a hand across to touch Grace. “I'd like to. Explain it to me."
With half-closed eyes, she told him about how dead people talk to her. Murder victims and she has to save them. He'd never heard anything stranger. “And you've lived this before?"
“Yes, I've rewound here a number of times."
“And have I been involved each time?"
“You believed me last time."
He shook his head. How could he come to believe her? “What did you say or do to get me to accept this as true?"
“I predicted a storm and a baseball team winning."
He chuckled. “I guess that would do it."
Cars passed on the road in front of the hospital, but Zach couldn't hear them on this side. The picnic table sat at one end of an empty parking lot used by the day workers.
He rubbed a hand through his hair, not knowing
