"Sleep better?" Kevin asked Charity as she and Joan walked into the kitchen the next morning.
"A little," she said. She sat down next to him in a chair. "The dream I had is still bugging me."
"Tell us about it?" Helen asked, cooking pancakes over at the stove. Will was looking through a manila folder and ran across the picture of Briana Watson and he flipped it over.
Charity shook her head. "Well, everything was dark. Then I saw this little girl with blond hair and it was pulled back in a bun and there was a pink rose in it and she was wearing a pink leotard and tutu and she spun around and said that spinning makes her dizzy. Then somebody just reached out and grabbed her and her scream woke me. God, I can still her screaming."
Will picked up the picture and walked over to Charity. "Did she look like this?" he asked, turning it around.
Joan looked over her shoulder at the picture.
"Yeah," Charity said.
"Charity, this is Briana Watson," he said. "How do you know her?"
She looked at the picture and then up at him. "I don't," she said. There was an awkward silence.
The doorbell rang. "I got it," Joan replied. She stood up and walked to the door.
A blond haired boy stood on the other side with a newspaper in His hands. "Paperboy," He said.
"I'll go get my mom," she replied.
"Joan," He said.
She looked at Him. "What?" she sighed. "Oh. Charity had a dream about—"
"The missing girl, Briana Watson," He said.
"Yeah, did You have anything to do with that?"
He shook His head. "No," he said.
She studied His face. "Then how did she have a dream about her?"
He shrugged. "Some people possess things that I have no control over."
"You mean to tell me that she has dreams and she can help my dad find the girl?"
He shook His head. "She can't do it on her own," He replied. "You have to be there to help her."
"Joan!" Helen exclaimed from the kitchen.
"Be there in a minute," she called over her shoulder.
God looked at her.
"What do you want me to do?" she asked.
He glared at her. "I want you and Charity to work together on finding this girl," He said.
"But—"
"I know what you're thinking," He replied. "But I just can't help you find her."
She sighed. "Alright," she said. He handed her the newspaper and she closed the door. The doorbell rang and she opened it. "Yes?"
"Be polite and tip the paperboy," He said, with a smile on His face.
She stared at Him.
"Kidding," He said.
She laughed and closed the door.