Author's Note: WOW! Thanks to everyone for the wonderful reviews. I greatly appreciate them. Please keep them coming! Here is Chapter Three. Enjoy!!!
Chapter Three
Images of the day flashed faster than a speeding bullet and Tru shot up in bed, her heart pounding heavily inside her chest. She remembered everything. The most prominent image was the one of her sister lying on the table, blood gushing freely from her wounded chest where she had been shot by the ferocious bullets.
The image seemed to station itself there, deeply embedded in her brain and poisoning her thoughts. She just couldn't seem to shake the image. It was a nightmare. However, it was worse than a nightmare. Only moments ago the prominent image in her brain had been reality. The worst reality imaginable. How could this happen?
Tru quickly shook herself from her deep reverie. She had to concentrate. As hard as it seemed she had to force herself to concentrate on the task at hand: saving her sister. She jumped out of bed and threw on a pair of comfortable clothes, not paying any special attention to what they were specifically. She didn't have time for that.
It was then when she remembered it was Lindsay's birthday and she had promised to meet Harrison, Randall and the Birthday Girl herself at the local diner right about now. I'm running even later now then I was the first time this day began. I'll call Harry on the way to the morgue. I'll leave it to him to come up with some convoluted excuse as to why I'm a no- show.
Tru grabbed her jacket and began heading out the door when she heard the shrill ringing of her telephone.
Oh crap.
Tru ran over to her phone. "Hello?"
"How is this possible?" said the all-too familiar voice on the other end of the line. "I was running late. Fashionably as always, mind you. But you?! Where the hell are you?"
"Harry, please now isn't the best time. I'm kinda in a hurry here."
"What do you mean now isn't the best time?! Did you—wait a minute." Tru heard Harry excuse himself from the table and head off to a quieter part of the diner.
"You having another one of those days again?"
"Yup."
"What's the matter, sis? You sound more shaken up then usual. If that is even possible for you."
"It's Meredith."
"How's she doing? You heard from her lately?"
"Yeah Harry. She—she asked for my help. The day rewound and viola, here I am."
"So what are you gonna do?"
"That's for me to know and me to find out. Listen, Harry tell Lindsay I'm sorry I can't make it. Tell her I promise to make it up to her."
"What's your excuse?"
"I don't know Harry just make something up, okay? I really gotta get going. Bye."
"Tru?"
"Yeah Harry?"
"Be careful."
"I will. I promise. Bye Harry."
"Bye Tru."
Tru ran all the way to the morgue. Literally. She ran into Davis' office, sweating, panting and out of breath.
"Good morning, Tru. You're unexpectedly early today."
Tru's heart rate slowed and her breathing quickly returned to normal, as a look of fear, anxiety and sadness spread over her face.
"Something wrong, Tru?"
Tru quickly recapped the events of her do-over day while Davis listened intently. Davis' eyes widened in utter horror when Tru told him who the victim was.
"Davis, I don't know what to do." Tru was beyond worried about the life of her elder sister. She felt nauseous and her stomach felt as if it were twisted into a million knots.
No room for butterflies in my stomach.
"What was her time of death?"
"5:24 p.m."
Tru looked at the clock worriedly. It was almost noon. Lindsay's birthday breakfast was more of a birthday brunch.
Tru had approximately five and a half hours until her sister's death were to become a reality. This time it would truly be reality.
After those dreadful hours, Meredith Davies would be no more.