Third and Final Premonition. Emily Pérez Carrillo

Naomy couldn’t contact Emily. She was the only one left to confirm the trip to La Feria. Naomy paced around her room, wondering what she should do. Candice watched her. Her image was perfectly visible in the mirror, but Naomy didn't see her.

"I need to talk to you, Naomy," Candice said, loud and clear. Naomy was startled and jumped. She approached the mirror.

"What do you want now?" Naomy asked crossly while looking at Candice. Her hair was down and she was wearing casual clothes, not her ballet dress.

"It’s... your friend," she said with some concern. Naomy tried to speak, but Candice interrupted her. "Pay attention, please."

The mirror changed and revealed an image. She saw Emily crying in the back of a stranger's car. It was clear she didn't want to be there and was being kept there against her will. The next thing she saw was a dark room, filled with other women of various ages.

"With them, I secure the cancellation of my debt, right?" asked the man. Naomy didn't recognize him. She trembled just imagining what they were doing. "Assure me it will happen that way. One of them is my daughter."

"As long as they are virgins and learn quickly, your debt will be canceled," affirmed another threatening-looking man. He had something in his hand that made the first man shake. A weapon.

Candice reappeared, serious, her eyes glassy because she knew what was going to happen and did not want it to be so. No one deserved that fate. Naomy was petrified.

"You know what to do," Candice stated solemnly. A few tears fell. "I can't tell you anything more."

Naomy called Lucía again and told her about Candice’s premonition. Both agreed they couldn't wait. They didn't know what might happen or who that man was. But Naomy affirmed that he was calling himself Emily’s father.

At twelve years old, Emily had never known her father. Sandra had always kept secret the identity of the man who got her pregnant and abandoned her when she announced she was eight weeks.

It embarrassed her to know she had been so foolish as to fall for the trap and the sweet words of the first man who paid her any attention. Nina forced her to give birth to Emily and to take care of her.

"If you're responsible enough to sleep around with just anyone," Nina would repeat to her daughter, "then be responsible for the baby."

During the early years, Nina helped her financially, but when she decided to retire, that stopped. She had already spent and invested in her own daughter and wasn't going to waste her money on a creature she despised. It would mean giving more freedom to her ungrateful daughter. She felt she did enough by keeping her in the house her late husband had bought and looking after Emily once in a while.

"Enough with the jokes," Karla complained during Naomy’s call about the new prediction she couldn't see. "I understand you wanted to help Dita, but lying about Emily?"

"This isn't a game, Karla," Naomy reprimanded her. Karla felt attacked. "Emily could be in danger."

"And how do you plan to solve the problem?" Lucía asked seriously. "Are you going to pray to the Virgin or Saint Jude? Do you think they’ll do something?"

Karla said nothing, but Naomy sensed she was on the verge of tears. The silence felt awkward. Naomy continued her talk.

"We did the ritual," she said, trying to sound calm. "It worked, and now it shows us the future. If it does, it's because the mirror wants us to prevent it. Not by praying, but by intervening."

Karla heard her friend hang up, and the dial tone pierced her ears. First, they call her for a trip to an amusement park—her mother had given her permission. Then, to intervene in something that was uncertain. She didn't like being treated this way.

She just wanted a peaceful vacation, reading and walking, to honor the death and resurrection of Christ. She spoke to her mother.

"Mom, can we talk?" Karla said timidly. Her mother stopped darning her husband’s sweater to listen to her daughter. "If you could see the future, what would you do?" Karla asked.

Her nervousness was evident; her voice trembled. But her mother didn't judge her or reprimand her. She knew when her daughter was being honest. She knew it was hard for her to express herself and wasn't going to judge her, no matter how exaggerated her problems sounded.

"It depends," the mother replied sincerely. "Jesus knew he was going to be crucified and he faced the problem anyway. But I am not Jesus. If that future depends on a person's life, I would help change it."

"But..." Karla said hesitatingly. Her mother encouraged her to continue just with a look. "What if I don't know when that future will happen? What if all this seems more like a joke than something serious?"

"Listen to me well, Karla," the mother told her daughter, forcing her to look at her. "One should never joke about certain topics. It is well said that one knows neither the hour nor the day. But if you know it's going to happen, then it's better to do something before you regret it and it's too late."

****

At Emily's house, the situation had calmed down. The paramedics had left, and the three were in an awkward position. Nina watched with hatred—with a visible resentment that had nearly sent her to the emergency room.

“Will you tell me what are you doing here?" Nina shouted, startling even Emily.

"I’ve come to see my daughter," the man explained calmly. An uncomfortable calm adorned with the smile of the person claiming to be Emily’s father.

"Twelve years, Rodrigo," Nina stated. Her voice trembled, as did her hands. "Do you really think you can just come back after all this time?"

Rodrigo explained how he had to start working, his move to Monterrey, and how he now had a stable position at an automotive factory and could take care of his family.

"I'll take over from here, Mrs. Nina," Rodrigo explained. "It's vacation; the girl should go out for walks, play, do some exercise, and eat treats. What do you think, Emi? And who knows, I might even take you to Monterrey so you can see the Cerro de la Silla up close."

Nina was furious, but Emily began to trust him and even managed a smile. The idea of spending her two weeks going out on trips helped her trust her father.