Where is that draft coming from?

Goose bumps rolled up her arms and she stripped the dress off the hanger, leaping back into her room. She flipped the light off and picked up the towel, closing the closet door. Her eyes never left the door while she dressed.

Jennifer walked back to the closet, her heart beating frantically in her chest and she swore under her breath. “God damn it, Jen, it’s only a fucking closet.”

The doorknob was cold enough to produce a fog around her fingers as she wrapped her hand around it. Sweat broke out on her upper lip and she bit down on her lower lip, trying to keep the fear in check.

She yanked the door open and her voice locked in her throat. Her breath seized in her lungs. Instead of her garment-filled closet, the view was replaced by the clearing from her dreams. The black water shimmered, glinting evil shards of light from the surface. Dried moss almost as black as the water surrounded the pond, fractured by a crude carving. With recognition came the shakes. It was a pentacle.

The water moved, catching her attention. Red eyes surfaced, returning her terrified gaze. The chuckle that drifted over the clearing into her room broke her paralysis.

Jennifer slammed the door and took a few unsteady steps away from the closet. She couldn’t speak, never mind scream. Her voice became completely nonexistent and she fought to bring air into her lungs, wheezing as it scraped over her vocal cords. Panic attacked, and she frantically looked around the room. Her eyes landed on her pocket book and she lunged for it. Rummaging through, she found what she was looking for. She flipped her phone open and pressed the send button, scrolling frantically down the list of recent calls until the number she wanted was highlighted. She pressed the send button again and put the phone to her ear.

* * * *

Steve jumped when his phone rang in his pocket. Everyone in the class looked at him, including Murphy. Steve dug the phone out and glanced quickly at the number. He stood up and walked out of the classroom to take the call. He only heard wheezing in the phone. “Jen?”

“Can’t breathe.”

Steve froze. “Where are you?”

“Apartment.”

“I’m coming.” He ran toward the car, digging the keys out of his pocket.

“Can’t breathe,” she repeated. The asthma attack constricted her lungs, the panic helping it along.

He knew what was happening—he’d heard that wheezing before. “Okay, I’m in the car. What I want you to do is go into the shower, turn it on really hot, and close the door. Stay on the phone with me, all right?” Steve heard the door open and the water turn on. “Now sit on the floor until I get there. Just stay on the line with me okay?”

“Okay,” she wheezed.

“My class was such a snoozer.” He kept talking to keep her calm. “Murphy doesn’t have a clue about how to keep a class full of college kids focused.” He laughed, still hearing the wheezing on the line. It sounded a little less labored. “He’s great in the field, though. I trust him with my life. He worked with my grandfather, you know.” He could hear her getting some air now. “I’m almost there. You feeling a little better?”

“Yeah.” She wheezed, breathing in the hot steam as she listened to him prattle on.

“He wasn’t too pleased that I got up and left his class. I’m sure I’ll hear about it later.” He pulled into the parking lot. The frantic look his eyes reflected in the rear-view mirror didn’t match the levity in his voice. The light conversational tone was a stark contrast to how fast he slammed into a parking spot and bolted from the car. “I’m in the parking lot now. Still with me?”

“Yeah.” Her voice sounded a little stronger.

“You don’t have an inhaler, do you?”

“A what?”

“Asthma medicine.”

“No.”

“I’m in the elevator now.” He pushed the button. He counted the floors for her. “Fifteen,” he said and the elevator doors opened. “Think you can make it to the door?”

“Yeah.”

He heard the water sound fade as she made her way down the hall. He closed the cell phone when she opened the front door.

Jennifer flew into his arms, tears streaking her cheeks. Steve led her back toward the shower, where the outer room was full of steam. He sat her down and settled next to her with his arm around her shoulder. “Slow deep breaths.” He breathed with her. “That’s it.”

“Steve…,” she started, her eyes still frightened.

“No talking right now. Just breathe for me.” He watched her, smiling and kissing her forehead. “That’s right, just breathe.” He leaned his head back against the tile and took a deep breath himself, letting the panic he felt melt away in the steam. “The last time I remember you having one of these, you were five or six.” His eyes closed. “Scared the crap out of me then.” He let out a quick laugh. “This time wasn’t much different.” He glanced over at her. “We were playing in those caves in the woods,” he recalled. “You got freaked out by something and started that horrible wheezing.” He shook his head at the memory. “I carried you all the way home and Sammy kept asking me if you were gonna be all right.” He looked over at her. “Your mom took you and did the same thing we’re doing right now.”

The tears spilled down her cheeks. She remembered that day, and she remembered why she’d freaked out. “I saw what happened to Samantha.” Jennifer’s voice was stronger and her breathing less restricted. “That’s what caused it.”

Steve looked over at her. “You saw my sister’s death?”

“Yes. And it wasn’t pretty.”

“No, I imagine it wasn’t.” He closed his eyes. Samantha ran out in the road after a ball and had been mowed over by a speeding truck. After her death, they had leaned on each other. One had lost a best friend, the other, a little sister, and together they got through it. “So, what set you off this time?” He glanced at her.

She tilted her head against the tile. Her hair, wet from the steam, clung to the damp skin of her face and neck. Her cheeks flushed and she took slow deep breaths. “I’m not sure what I saw,” she finally said.

He let her breathe for a while and just held her. “What do you think you saw?” he asked as her breath became regular again.

“My closet…it wasn’t my closet. I saw the clearing in my visions. And that thing, that thing was looking at me and laughing.”

He kissed her forehead but didn’t know what to say. “Just breathe.” He held her, leaning his head back as well. Droplets of water covered his hair and his body became slick with sweat from the hot steam.

Steve’s phone rang, making them both jump. “I’ve got to learn to put this thing on vibrate.” He dug the phone out of his pocket.

“I’ve got your things. Is everything all right?” Murphy asked.

“Yes,” he said. “I’ll come get my stuff later.”

As though he were irritated with Steve’s calm, quiet manner, Murphy barked, “What happened?”

Steve looked over at Jennifer clutching at her chest to regain regular breath. “Jenny had an asthma attack. She’ll be okay in a little while. She’s just a bit shaken up right now.”

“Your vision girl has asthma?” A little laugh passed through the phone line.

“Fuck off, Murphy.”

“Don’t talk to your boss like that,” Jennifer scolded, her breath laboring around the words.

Murphy heard her remark in the background. “I like her already.”

Steve smiled and looked over at Jennifer. “I gotta go.”

“Check back in a little while,” Murphy ordered.

“Will do.” Steve closed the phone.

Jennifer rubbed the steam off his watch. “I need to get to class.”

He shook his head. “No, you need to breathe.”

“I am breathing,” she answered.

“But it’s still not natural, you’re still forcing it.”

“What are you, my mother?”

“No, I’m the man you’re going to marry.”

“Says who?” She half smiled.

“Says me.”

“I can’t miss another class.” She tried to get up.