Chapter 3

The next big project on the horizon was a launch for a boutique hotel chain, "The Crimson Door." In my first life, this was a minor, successful campaign that went off without a hitch. It was overshadowed by Chloe' s meteoric rise. This time, I saw it as an opportunity. A chance to change a variable.

But before I could even begin, Chloe made her next move. A few weeks after the Veridian incident, she called an impromptu meeting with Mr. Thompson and the senior staff. I was pointedly not invited, but I stood just outside the glass conference room, watching.

After a few minutes, Mr. Thompson' s assistant came out and told me he wanted to see me.

As I walked in, Chloe was sitting beside Mr. Thompson, looking grave.

"Sarah," Mr. Thompson began, his voice heavy. "Chloe has had another... premonition."

"It' s about the celebration for the Crimson Door account," Chloe said, her voice filled with faux concern. "We' re planning to host it at their flagship hotel' s new rooftop bar, right?"

I nodded slowly. "That' s the plan. It' s part of the cross-promotion."

"We have to cancel," Chloe said, her eyes wide. "I saw it so clearly. The new glass railing they installed. It' s faulty. It' s going to give way during the party. People will fall."

The room went cold. This was new. This wasn' t in my past life' s script. She was getting bolder, inventing new disasters.

"That' s a serious accusation, Chloe," I said, keeping my voice steady. "The hotel just passed a city safety inspection. I saw the certificate myself."

"Certificates can be forged. Inspectors can be paid off," Chloe countered smoothly. "The vision was clear. A structural failure. We can' t risk putting our clients and our staff in that kind of danger."

Mr. Thompson looked pale. The Gilded Spoon fire was still fresh in his mind. The idea of a fatal accident at one of our events was a PR nightmare he couldn't stomach.

"Cancel the event," he said, his voice leaving no room for argument. "And sever ties with the Crimson Door account. I don' t want our name anywhere near them when this happens."

"What?" I was stunned. "We can' t just drop a client based on a feeling! We have a contract! This will destroy our reputation for reliability!"

"A reputation for being alive is more important!" Mr. Thompson snapped. "Chloe has been right twice. I' m not going to bet against her a third time. This is my final decision."

I walked out of the room, my mind reeling. This was different. She wasn't just predicting events anymore; she was actively manipulating our business decisions, costing us clients and money. Was this her endgame? To slowly bleed the agency dry?

I couldn' t let this happen. I couldn't let her win this way.

I went back to my desk and pulled up everything I had on the Crimson Door' s rooftop bar construction. I found the name of the engineering firm that signed off on the safety inspection. I found the contact for the city building inspector.

My first life' s experience taught me that fighting Chloe' s 'magic' with logic was useless. But what if the magic was a lie? What if the fire wasn't a coincidence? What if this railing collapse was also planned?

I picked up my phone and walked into a small, empty office. I dialed the number for the city' s anonymous tip line for the fire department.

"Hello," I said, my voice low. "I' d like to report a potential arson conspiracy. I have reason to believe the fire at The Gilded Spoon last month was deliberately set." I gave them what little I had-the timing, Chloe' s "prediction" -and suggested they look into anyone who benefited from that fire not happening. Then, I took a deep breath.

"I also have a concern about a potential future event. A party at the Crimson Door Hotel' s rooftop bar. There' s a rumor that a new glass railing is going to be sabotaged to cause a collapse."

The operator on the other end was quiet for a moment. "That' s a very specific and serious claim, ma' am."

"I know," I said. "That' s why I' m calling. Please, just have someone check it out. Discreetly. The engineering firm was 'Solid Structures Inc.' The city inspector was a Mr. Gable."

After I hung up, I felt a small flicker of hope. I had done something. I had intervened.

For the next two days, the office was a hive of frantic activity as we backed out of the Crimson Door contract, managing the legal and financial fallout. Chloe walked around with a somber expression, accepting praise for her "life-saving" intervention.

The night of the planned party came. I sat at home, glued to my laptop, constantly refreshing the local news sites. 9 PM. 10 PM. 11 PM. Nothing.

The next morning, I walked into the office with a sense of dread. There had been no news of a collapse. Had I been wrong? Had my intervention worked?

Mr. Thompson called an all-hands meeting first thing.

"As you all know," he began, his face grim, "Chloe warned us of a potential tragedy at the Crimson Door Hotel. Because of her foresight, we cancelled the event and terminated our relationship with the client."

He paused for dramatic effect.

"I received a call this morning from the CEO of Crimson Door. Last night, there was a private event on that same rooftop. A section of the glass railing failed. Three people fell. One is dead, two are in critical condition."

A collective gasp went through the room. My blood turned to ice in my veins. It happened. It actually happened. Even with my warning, it happened.

Everyone turned to look at Chloe, their faces filled with pure, unadulterated awe. She had the grace to look sad, shaking her head slightly as if burdened by her terrible knowledge.

I stared at her, but I wasn't seeing a prophet. I was seeing a monster.

How? How could she have made this happen? My call should have triggered an investigation, a safety check. It should have stopped this. Unless... unless the sabotage was so subtle, so expertly done, that a standard check wouldn't find it. Or unless the people checking were part of the plan.

This wasn' t just Chloe anymore. This was a conspiracy. She had help. Professional help.

My attempt to change the future had failed spectacularly. I hadn' t prevented the disaster; I had only succeeded in making Chloe look even more infallible, more powerful.

And in that moment of crushing defeat, a new, chilling thought solidified in my mind. Chloe Davis wasn't just a liar. She was a murderer. And I had no idea how to stop her.