Mick had been right about one thing, at least. He and Will made out like bandits from the pity factor, as they huddled against the wall of a building, begging for spare change.
"See, told you," Mick said at one point. "It's like this every winter. Now if we opened a savings account at the bank over there, we could save enough to buy a house—or at least rent an apartment."
Will laughed. "Uh-huh. I don't see that happening, but maybe we can buy some thermal underwear."
"I'll take that as a second choice."
Will smiled wryly. "That's good, because…"
He paused when Mick said, "Hold that thought," and jumped to his feet, hurrying over to a nearby trash can where a man had just deposited the morning newspaper
Mick returned, holding it. When Will asked, he said, "I want to see if the kid did get attacked." Settling back down, he began scanning through it, stopping at one article to glance at Will with a shake of his head.
"He did, last night, just the way you saw it."
Without a thought, Will grabbed the paper. The headline of the story said, 'Student Assaulted in Laundry Room of Apartment Building'. As he continued reading, he took a deep breath. "No. Not possible," he whispered.
"What?" Mick looked at the shocked expression on Will's face and asked again when he didn't reply, "What's wrong? He's still alive. In the hospital, but alive."
Will's hands were trembling as he crushed the newspaper. Angrily he threw it down, got up, and strode away.
Mick snagged their backpacks and hurried after him.
"Damn it," he said, finally getting close enough to grip Will's arm. "Talk to me. Tell me what's wrong."
"He's what's wrong. The kid. No wonder…" Will's voice petered out as he yanked his arm free and kept walking.
Mick was right behind him, almost shouting, "Where the hell are you going?"
"To the damned hospital. To see… to see…"
"Well, you're going in the wrong damned direction," Mick told him. "It's that way."
"I know damned well where it is," Will growled, spinning around to continue on in the right direction.
After a few blocks, Will's pace slowed. Mick could see the hospital half a mile in the distance and was surprised when Will paused uncertainly, murmuring under his breath, "I should turn around and go away. Leave them in peace." He seemed even more upset than he had been moments earlier, pale, his hands fisting spasmodically at his sides.
"Who, Will? Who is the kid?"
"My son… I think."
"You have a son?" Mick looked at him in shock.
"Maybe. Perhaps. Maybe that's why I saw what was going to happen to him."
"Uh-uh. If that was the case then everyone you had visions about would have to be related to you," Mick replied logically.
Will shook his head. "I told you, when I see something it's just before it happens. But not this time." His hands fisted. "Or that time," he whispered.
"How can you think he's your son? I mean… why?"
"His name."
Mick frowned, obviously trying to remember what it said in the paper. "Kevin Parker? There's nothing unusual about that. I mean, not enough to say he might be your kid."
"Kevin William Parker," Will replied, stressing William.
"Still pretty common when you think about it."
Will began walking again, very slowly, toward the hospital. "It's the same as mine. Well, not the Parker. That was her last name."
"Her who?"
"The only woman I ever loved. Miranda Parker."
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