Inside, the house was filled with books and papers, an organized chaos that hinted at a life dedicated to study and prediction. Cassandra led me to a small sitting room, where the afternoon light streamed through the windows, casting patterns on the floor.
« I know you have questions, » she began, settling into a chair. « And I understand why you’re skeptical. » Her eyes met mine with a sincerity that was disarming.
« You claim to have seen events before they happen, » I said bluntly. « Why should I believe you? »
She nodded, as if expecting the question. « I don’t ask for belief without evidence, » she replied. « All I can offer is what I’ve seen and what I know. »
She handed me a folder, similar to the one Emily had given me. My fingers trembled slightly as I opened it, revealing more transcripts, some dating back years. Each one documented predictions that had come to pass, each one more unsettling than the last.
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