She climbed the stairs steadily. She reached the landing and came to a halt, transfixed by the sight of the raindrops rolling down the outside of the stained glass window. She was in her own world, as people rushed by, trying not to be late to class.

From far away, she could hear a voice ask, "Dax? Are you OK?" She could feel a hand on her arm.

She jerked back to reality with a sharp intake of breath. She looked around, and saw her best friend, Trey, staring at her with wide-eyed concern.

"You're doing it again."

"Trey," she said slightly annoyed, "You know very well I can't control…"

"I know, I know, I was only joking, Dax… So, what is it this time? Murder? Robbery? Death?" asked Trey in an excited tone.

"I don't know… you interrupted me. I only know it has to do with the rain…"

"That's it? That's all you can come up with? And you call yourself a psych--"

She slapped her hand over his mouth. "What did I say about using that word?" hissed Dax, "Especially around other people?"

"Yeah, well, our future will be seriously limited if we don't hurry to class soon… Shultis will kill us."

As they ran off to class, Dax could not shake the image of those raindrops from her head.

She didn't know when, why, or how, but she knew something bad would happen… That is… if somebody made the wrong choice.