Laverne’s eyes widen. “Wow. Thankfully you’re both okay.”
Orion doesn’t say anything else. Just like at the hospital, he doesn’t tell my story for me.
“I’m only sort of okay. Death-Cast called me last night.”
The receptionist peeks up from the front counter, stunned.
Laverne laughs. “You’re going to be fine,” she says, waving off this big bomb I just dropped like it was only cigarette smoke. “You can’t possibly believe that those Death-Cast people can actually know when someone is going to die.”
“We do,” Orion says. “And they’ve been right already.”
“It hasn’t been a full day. There are many opportunities for their predictions to be proven wrong.”
“Valentino can’t risk waiting around for that,” Orion says. “So is there something we can do to get this photo shoot going on today?”
Laverne is no longer charmed by Orion. She turns to me. “If you truly believe that Death-Cast is right, then why are you even trying to do this photo shoot?”
“I’ve been working hard for a moment like this.”
“But you won’t be around to reap the rewards.”
“I like knowing my work is out there. That I was seen.”
Laverne nods slowly. “I hear you. Fortunately, I’ll have a new photographer by Monday. Tuesday at the latest. We can make your dreams come true then.”
Orion is about to fight for me, but I grab his hand. We both stop and exchange a look.
I got this, I say with my eyes.
If you don’t, I will, Orion seems to say back.
Then I look at Laverne, and she can’t seem to read my mind even though she once said she could see my soul through my gaze. “I will be dead by Monday,” I say.
Laverne sits beside me. “You’re scared. I understand why. Our president has lied to us about Death-Cast and is creating hysteria. But I lived through this already with Y2K back in 2000. We were told that this millennium bug was going to affect all computer systems and result in banks shutting down and government records being exposed and people getting stuck in elevators and technology turning against us. I was terrified . . . until the clock hit midnight and we were all fine. You will be too because Death-Cast isn’t real.”
I’m so disappointed. It was one thing seeing people in Times Square not believing in Death-Cast, but it’s another to see it coming from someone I trusted with my career—with my life. “Moments after getting my Death-Cast call, I was almost killed in Times Square. Probably by the same person who killed William.”
“A nearly tragic coincidence,” Laverne says. “I’m relieved you lived—and that you will. We’re going to do incredible work at the photo shoot next week.”
We’re not going to change each other’s minds. The only way I can prove her wrong is by dying, and I don’t want to do it any sooner than I already will to make a point.
“Is there really nothing we can shoot today? My sister will be arriving in New York really soon. Scarlett’s a photographer. You loved her work. So did the RainBrand team.”
I don’t know which stage of grief bargaining is, but I know that’s what’s happening here. I’m desperate to make this work, any way I can.
“Scarlett has a wonderful eye, but she’s not here,” Laverne says.
“I can do it,” Orion says. “How hard can it be?”
“Exceptionally,” Laverne says. “The RainBrand campaign will need a veteran to helm it nonetheless. I’m looking forward to introducing you to whoever that turns out being in the coming days.”