Page 3

Seraphina tried to surrender to the rhythm, but her eyes kept darting around the room. Was that man going to drop his drink? Would that couple start arguing? Every movement seemed like potential déjà vu.

Then she saw it—a bartender reaching for a bottle that teetered dangerously on the edge. Without thinking, she began counting.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five.

Nothing. The bottle remained intact on the bar and the bartender was nowhere in sight. Seraphina exhaled, relieved that her mind was just playing tricks after all.

Until the bottle crashed to the floor a few minutes later.

"Oh god." Her heart hammered in her chest. This wasn't normal.

"Shots!" Abby appeared with two glasses of electric blue liquid. "Birthday medicine!"

"I can't." Seraphina stepped back. "Abby, something's wrong with me. I just saw that bottle fall before it happened."

"You're just hyperaware of everything because of earlier tonight." Abby held out the shot. "Drink. Dance. Worry tomorrow."

Seraphina forced herself to stay another hour, declining every drink after that first shot. The music blurred with laughter, but she couldn't shake the feeling of time folding in on itself.

"I think I need to go home," she finally said, her voice tight. "My head—I can't think straight."

"I'll call you an Uber." Abby squeezed her arm. "Is the birthday curse still bothering you?"

"Something like that." Seraphina leaned against the wall, watching the crowd with new eyes. "I just really need to lie down right now."

Seraphina stepped outside Eclipse, tugging at the hem of the black cocktail dress Abby had insisted she borrow. The fabric hugged her curves in ways her usual attire never did, making her simultaneously self-conscious and oddly powerful. Miami's cool December night air felt refreshing carrying the scent of salt water from the nearby bay and the faint sweetness of night-blooming jasmine.

She checked her phone. Three minutes until her Uber arrived. Seraphina leaned back against the brick wall, watching other club-goers stumble out into the night, their laughter echoing down the street. The soft glow of the club's neon sign painted the sidewalk in electric blue, creating surreal shadows that danced with each passing car.

Then it happened again.

The world blurred at the edges, sounds fading as her vision sharpened with crystalline clarity on a specific point. A woman in silver heels leaving the club, checking her phone as she walked. In Seraphina's vision, the woman's ankle twisted, sending her tumbling into the street just as a black sedan began backing out of its parking spot. The impact wasn't deadly, butthe woman crumpled to the ground, clutching her hip in pain as onlookers rushed to help.

Seraphina gasped, the vision dissipating. Her heart raced as she soon spotted the woman from her premonition exiting the club, silver heels glinting, phone already in hand.

"I can stop this," Seraphina whispered to herself.

Instead of charging forward as instinct dictated, Seraphina made a split-second calculation. The trajectory needed changing.

"Hey!" She waved to the woman. "Excuse me! Do you have a lighter?"

The woman looked up from her phone, momentarily confused. "What?"

"A lighter?" Seraphina repeated, gesturing for her to come over.

The woman hesitated, then changed direction, stepping toward Seraphina and away from the path that would've led to her accident. Behind her, the black sedan backed out of its spot, passing harmlessly through the space where the woman would've fallen.

"I don't smoke, sorry." The woman gave Seraphina an apologetic smile before continuing down the sidewalk, unharmed.

Seraphina staggered back slightly, her breath coming in short gasps. "Holy shit," she whispered. She had changed it. She had prevented the accident.

Her Uber pulled up then, a silver Honda with a slight dent in the passenger door. Seraphina slid into the backseat, her mind racing.

"Good night?" The driver glanced at her in the rearview mirror.

"Interesting one," Seraphina murmured, staring out the window as Miami's lights blurred past.

As the car navigated through late-night traffic, Seraphina's thoughts drifted to her office at the university observatory. Her star charts and calculations, the predictable patterns of celestial bodies she had devoted her life to studying. Was this somehow connected? Had a lifetime of staring at the cosmos somehow attuned her to patterns in time itself?