The Master Psychic

chapter 5 - the start

The faint blue glow of the television still lit the living room, its sound long ago muted by the soft hum of sleep. Sage stirred, blinking awake to find the weight of her brother's arm draped protectively around her shoulders. Harper was nestled on his other side, her head resting on his chest, both of them breathing deep and even.

For a moment, Sage just lay there, listening to the rhythm of their breaths, feeling the steady warmth of Mason's hold. Safe. Sheltered. The ache of the night's memories lingered, but here, cocooned between the two of them, it felt less sharp.

Carefully, Sage shifted. She slid out from under Mason's arm, moving slow enough that he didn't stir. She sat up, looking down at the pair of them. In sleep, they looked softer—Harper's tear-streaked face peaceful at last, Mason's usually stern features eased.

A small smile tugged at Sage's lips. She reached for the throw blanket crumpled at the end of the couch and gently spread it over them, tucking it around their shoulders.

"Goodnight," she whispered, though neither of them could hear.

With one last glance, she padded quietly across the living room, her footsteps light on the floor. She climbed the stairs, every creak sounding louder in the silence, until she reached her room.

Closing the door behind her, she leaned against it for a moment, letting out a soft breath. Alone again, but wrapped in a fragile warmth that hadn't been there before.

She slipped beneath her own blankets, pulling them close, and for the first time in a long time, sleep came quickly.

Darkness wrapped around her like a heavy blanket, suffocating and endless. Sage found herself standing in a place she couldn’t name—no ground beneath her feet, no walls, no sky. Just shadows stretching forever.

And then they appeared.

Two silver eyes, gleaming out of the dark, piercing straight through her. They didn’t blink. They didn’t move. They only stared.

Her breath hitched, the same way it always did when they came, but this time something was different.

A voice. Low. Male. Smooth, yet edged like a blade dragging across stone.

“Soon.”

The word slithered into her mind, curling around her thoughts. She stumbled back though there was nowhere to go, heart hammering against her ribs.

“Soon.”

The eyes seemed to grow brighter, closer, though the figure never stepped forward. Her hands flew to her ears as if she could shut the voice out, but it only echoed inside her skull, louder, more insistent.

“Soon.”

Her pulse roared in her ears, panic surging through every vein. She opened her mouth to scream—

And her eyes shot open.

She was in her bed, the dim morning light spilling across the room. Her chest rose and fell in sharp, uneven breaths. The sound of her heartbeat still thundered in her ears.

But the word lingered, even though she was awake.

Soon.

Sage lay still for a moment, her heart still racing as the remnants of the dream clung to her skin like a cold sweat. She turned her head toward the nightstand, blinking until the glowing red numbers of her alarm clock came into focus.

7:30 AM.

Her stomach sank. School.

With a groan, she swung her legs over the side of the bed and sat there for a beat, rubbing her temples. Only one week left of her senior year. Seven more mornings of forcing herself into this routine before she never had to walk those halls again. The thought should have felt like freedom, but all she could think about were those silver eyes and that voice echoing in her head.

“Soon,” she whispered under her breath, shuddering.

Shaking herself, she pushed to her feet and moved to her dresser. She pulled out a pair of jeans and a soft T-shirt, slipping them on before brushing her hair into something presentable. At her desk, she grabbed her backpack, already half-packed with textbooks and notebooks scrawled with doodles she couldn’t even remember drawing.

She caught her reflection in the mirror above her dresser. Her face was pale, eyes shadowed, but determined.

“One week,” she muttered to herself. “Just one week.”

She slung her backpack over her shoulder, forcing a breath of steadiness into her lungs, and headed for the door. The dream clung to her mind, but she wouldn’t let it consume her. Not today.

Sage slipped out the front door, backpack slung over her shoulder, and made her way down the driveway. The morning air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of dew on the grass. She climbed into Mason’s car, tossed her bag into the back seat, and settled into the passenger side.

The car was silent except for the ticking of the cooling engine. She leaned her head against the window, staring at the quiet street. Five minutes dragged by before the front door finally opened again. Mason stepped out, keys jingling in his hand, a travel mug of coffee in the other.

“Sorry,” he said as he slid behind the wheel. “Harper can’t decide what she wants for breakfast, so I had to play chef.” He shot her a sidelong look, smirking faintly. “You’d think she was the one in school, not you.”

Sage gave a small laugh, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “At least you can cook. I’d probably burn the house down trying to make toast.”

Mason snorted, starting the engine. “You’d probably have a vision in the middle of it and forget about the bread entirely.”

Her smile faltered for a moment at the word vision, but she masked it quickly, pulling her seatbelt across her chest. “Maybe,” she said softly.

The drive to the high school stretched ahead, sunlight breaking through the trees that lined the road. Mason sipped his coffee, eyes on the traffic, while Sage fiddled with the strap of her backpack.

“So,” he said casually, “last week of high school. You excited?”

“More like relieved,” she answered. “Feels like it’s taken forever.”

“Trust me, life doesn’t slow down after graduation.” He glanced at her, his tone softening. “But hey—one step at a time, yeah?”

Sage nodded, chewing on her lip as the silence fell again. Mason filled it with humming along to the radio, his voice low and familiar. It was mundane, ordinary—and for Sage, after the nightmares, it was almost comforting.

The familiar red-brick building of the high school came into view as Mason’s car rounded the corner, the parking lot already filling with students. Groups clustered near the entrance, laughing, shouting, or dragging their feet as if the weight of senior year pressed on them just as heavily as it did Sage.

Mason eased the car into the drop-off lane, slowing to a stop near the front steps. The rumble of the engine quieted, leaving only the muffled sounds of chatter and slamming lockers drifting from the open doors.

Sage shifted in her seat, her fingers tightening around the strap of her backpack.

Mason turned to her, his expression serious, though his tone carried a softness meant only for her. “Hey. If you need anything—anything—just call me. Doesn’t matter if I’m busy, doesn’t matter what time. Got it?”

She looked at him, surprised by the intensity in his eyes. For a moment, she wanted to tell him about the dream—the silver eyes, the voice whispering soon. But the words caught in her throat, heavy and unspoken.

Instead, she managed a small smile. “I got it.”

Mason reached out, brushing his hand gently over the top of her head before leaning back. “Good. Go on then, before I drag you inside myself and embarrass you in front of your friends.”

Sage let out a quiet laugh, shaking her head as she opened the door. “You’d actually do it, wouldn’t you?”

“You bet.” His grin flashed briefly before softening again. “Have a good day, Sage.”

She stepped out, pulling her backpack into place, and shut the door behind her. With one last glance through the window, she saw Mason watching her, his protective gaze never wavering until she disappeared into the crowd streaming toward the school doors.