CHAPTER NINETY-EIGHT

RICHARD'S POV

The taxi rattled along the uneven road as my mom and I sat in silence. She stared out the window, her fingers tapping nervously on her lap. I reached over and squeezed her hand, trying to infuse some reassurance into the gesture.

“Mom, it’s going to be okay,” I said softly. Her eyes, filled with worry, met mine, and she gave me a weak smile.

“I just don’t understand, Richard. How did you know about the accident?” she asked, her voice quivering.

“I dreamt about it,” I admitted. “I don’t know how to explain it, but something told me to follow my hunch.”

She sighed deeply and pulled me into a tight hug. “Thank God you did. You saved us.”

The taxi pulled up in front of a grand house, almost too grand for comfort. My father’s house. I hadn’t seen him in years, not since I was too young to remember his face. Mom offered to wait for me there while I went for the interview I was supposed to go for that morning. But I insisted we see my father first. The person he sent was alre