JOSH.
The news played low in the background while I stood in the kitchen, pouring coffee I wouldn't drink. I'd turned the volume down to keep it from freaking Houdini out — not that he cared. He was sprawled on the couch like a sleepy emperor, snoring faintly.
The anchor's voice was too calm.
"—record-breaking solar activity continuing to affect satellite imaging and GPS systems. Multiple rural outages reported across Quebec and the northeastern U.S.—"
That wasn't part of the dream.
But the flicker of static between clips? That was.The name of the scientist they cut to — the one with the hair like a sea urchin — I'd heard him say those exact words in my nightmare three nights ago.
"...rapid magnetic shift behaviour we don't fully understand yet, but we're monitoring…"
A pressure built behind my eyes.
I muted the screen.
Across the balcony windows, I caught a flicker of movement. My neighbour — old Mrs. Aria from Unit 4802 — was hauling a suitcase down the hallway, her phone jammed to her ear, scarf half-tucked into her coat like she'd left in a rush.
I opened my door as she approached.
"You headed out?" I asked.
She startled, then laughed. "Yeah—my sister's place in Florida, just in case. This weather's freaking me out."
Her eyes darted toward the window behind me. Smoke curled in the sky like a distant warning flare.
"Can you—actually, here." She dug into her tote and handed me a small silver key. "Can you keep an eye on the place? Just water the plant if I don't come back this week."
"Sure," I said, but my hand closed around the key like it was something sacred.
"Thanks, Josh. You're a lifesaver."
And then she was gone. Rolling suitcase. Quick stride. Door to the elevator swinging open—
And then slamming shut again.
She came flying back around the corner, breathless and muttering.
"Shit—passport! I'm not going through that drive again just to get turned around at the border."
She bolted past me into her unit.
My blood ran cold.
That was in the dream.
Every move.Every word.Even the passport.
The door to Aria's condo clicked shut behind her, but I didn't move.
Not for a full minute.
I stood there in my doorway, key in one hand, coffee cooling in the other, staring at the exact spot where she'd run past me — again, because I'd already seen it once. In my dream.
Houdini trotted up beside me, ears up. He gave a low whuff like he didn't like the hallway either.
"You're not imagining it," I muttered. Maybe to him. Maybe to myself.
The hallway lights flickered.
Just once.
Like someone breathing out after holding it too long.
I stepped back inside and closed the door, but it felt like the apartment shrank an inch. The walls had never felt this close before.
The news was still muted on the screen.
I unmuted it.
"—mild tremors felt near the edge of Lake Ontario, though officials are not yet connecting them to yesterday's volcanic activity off the coast of—"
Volcanic.
In Ontario.
I grabbed the remote, rewound ten seconds. Hit play again.
"—not yet connecting them—"
But I didn't hear the rest.
Because my eyes landed on the screen's corner, where the scrolling ticker bar blinked through a weather update.
TORNADO WARNING REMAINS IN EFFECT FOR DOWNTOWN TORONTO AND SURROUNDING AREA.
I froze.
In the dream, the building was half empty. Vacant. The storm had scared everyone off. I'd been told about a warning—one I didn't believe until it was too late.
But here it was. Line for line.
I turned slowly toward Houdini, who was now sitting perfectly still by the window, tail stiff.
"Okay," I said quietly. "Okay. This is real."
He tilted his head at me, like he'd been waiting for me to catch up.
"We start now."
I went to the closet and pulled out a legal pad — habit. I still did lists like I was prepping for trial.
#1: Reinforce doors#2: Stock food#3: Water supply#4: Tools / first aid#5: Don't tell anyone and don't let Rosie in.
The handwriting looked steady, but my pulse wasn't.
Because the dream didn't lie.
It just waited to be believed.