"She's not going to die," I said firmly. "Then she can't be on that bridge. I remember the clock on her car's dashboard said three fifteen, so I'm sure it happens in the afternoon." Automatically, I glanced at my watch-6:10 A.M. It'd be light in the next hour (and I should be going to bed), which meant that Grandma would be waking up. I knew her schedule. She woke up around dawn and went for a walk in the soft morning light. Then she came back to her cozy cabin and had a light breakfast before beginning whatever work needed to be seen to on her lavender farm. I'd call her and tell her to stay home, that she shouldn't even take a chance on driving anywhere today. She'd be safe; I'd make sure of it. Then another thought tickled at my mind. I looked at Aphrodite. "But what about the other people? I remember you said some thing about some kids in the car in front of you, and that car crashed and caught on fire."

"Yeah." I frowned at her. "Yeah, what?"

"Yeah, I was watching from your grandma's point of view and I saw a bunch of other cars crashing around me. It happened fast, though, so I couldn't really tell how many." She didn't say anything else, and I shook my head in disgust. "What about saving them? You said little boys died!" Aphrodite shrugged. "I told you my vision was confusing. I couldn't tell exactly where it was, and the only reason I knew when is because I saw the date and time on your grandma's dash."

"So you're just going to let the rest of those people die?"

"What do you care? Your grandma's going to be okay."

"You make me sick, Aphrodite. Do you care about anyone but yourself?"

"Whatever, Zoey. Like you're so perfect? I didn't hear you car ing about anyone else except your grandma."

"Of course I was worried about her the most! I love her! But I don't want anyone else to die, either. And no one else is going to if I have anything to say about it. So, you need to figure out some way to let me know which bridge we're talking about."

"I already told you--it's on the Muskogee Turnpike. I can't tell which one."

"Think harder! What else did you see?" She sighed and closed her eyes. I watched her face as her brow wrinkled and she seemed to cringe. With her eyes still closed she said, "Wait, no. It's not on the turnpike. I saw a sign. It's the I-40 bridge over the Arkansas River--the one that's right off the turn pike near Webber's Falls." Then she opened her eyes. "You know when and where. I can't tell you much more. I think some kind of flat boat, like a barge, hits the bridge, but that's all I know. I didn't see anything to identify the boat. So, how are you going to stop it?"

"I don't know, but I will," I muttered. "Well, while you're thinking about how to save the world, I'm going to go back to the dorm and do my nails. Raggedy nails are something I consider tragic."

"You know, having crappy parents isn't an excuse to be heart less," I said. She'd turned away and I saw her pause. Her back got really straight and when she looked over her shoulder at me I could see that her eyes were narrowed in anger. "What would you know about it?"

"About your parents? Not much except that they're controlling and your mom's a nightmare. About screwed-up parents in gen eral? Plenty. I've been living with pain-in-the-ass parent issues since my mom remarried three years ago. It sucks, but it's not an excuse to be a bitch."

"Try eighteen years of a lot more than just 'pain-in-the-ass parent issues' and maybe you'll start to get something about it. Until then, you don't know shit." Then, like the old Aphrodite I knew and couldn't stand, she flipped her hair and stalked away, wiggling her narrow butt like I cared. "Issues. The girl has major issues." I sat down on the bench and began rummaging through my purse for my cell phone, glad I carried it around with me even though I'd been forced to keep it on silent, without even vibrate on. The reason could be summed up in one word--Heath. He was my human almost-ex-boyfriend, and since he and my definitely ex-best friend, Kayla, had tried to "break me out" (that's actually what they'd said--morons) of the House of Night, Heath had been way over the top on his obsession level for me. Of course, that wasn't really his fault. I was the one who had tasted his blood and started the whole Imprint thing with him, but still. Anyway, even though his messages had dwindled down from like a zillion (meaning twenty or so) a day, to two or three, I still didn't feel like leaving my phone on and being bothered by him. And, sure enough, when I flipped it open there were two missed calls, both from Heath. No messages, though, so hopefully he's demonstrating the ability to learn. Grandma sounded sleepy when she answered the phone, but as soon as she realized it was me she perked up. "Oh, Zoeybird! It's so nice to wake up to your voice," she said. I smiled into the phone. "I miss you, Grandma."