It feels so much like sinking into cold water, like the beginning of a panic attack. But the reality of it is inescapable. The world presses down on her and the air gets sweeter, colder. Julianne has fallen deep into someone else's world, squeezed herself into something not meant for her. It is a mild summer afternoon in a busy city she has never visited before. There is the promise of rain hidden deep in the clouds that pass over the terrace of the house in which she finds herself. Somewhere behind her, in the dim space of a home caught in the middle of something, there is the sound of someone in a kitchen. It is unmistakably domestic, the sounds of slicing and stirring, the gentle kiss of plates being slid across a countertop.

Every time this happens, it feels like an imposition. It feels like this will be the time the people will see her. Will perceive her effect on their lives. Julianne Draper was not raised to barge into peoples' homes, to view their lives without permission. The visions always come with their own sort of context. They tell her about the people before their lives are ripped apart, showing the opportunity she could take but cannot seem to master. Following the sounds of life, she wanders through the open spaces, avoiding any furniture or easily-broken decor.

The woman is making lunch, two mounds of rice and vegetables on two plates. Jules steps around her, watching her face carefully for any sign of distress. In fact, she looks rather peaceful as she moves around the room. Turning away from the woman, she moves through the house, drinking in everything the vision allows her to have. Stopping in the hallway, she turns her face up to a set of framed photographs on the wall. One of the faces is familiar, a young boy smiling out from behind a pane of glass. She stops to consider it, but there is movement outside now on the terrace where she'd come in.

Retracing her steps through the home, she stops beside an older man who is sat in a chair just outside the door. In front of him, a little windchime catches in the breeze, playing a hollow melody over the conversation between the married pair from across an empty room. Jules understands the jumping, muttered Korean syllables but not the context of the conversation. They are discussing friends and family, people coming to visit. Jules turns to look at the man in his chair. He looks uncomfortable. Pale. She fears she has found the reason she was sent here. Something in the back of her mind burns hot like a bit of familiarity trying to come forth. She is unable to access it, however, and all she is able to do is catch the man as he clutches at his chest, his head rests in her hands and she helps him gently to the floor.

In the cabin, all the world is quiet. Her cell phone winks awake, bright blue in the blackness of the cabin, letting her know it is 2:30 in the morning. Her limbs feel heavy and she would like to go back to the calm peacefulness of that kitchen, before she saw anything. Rubbing her hands over her face, she realizes what comes next and she wishes this was not the tradeoff for seeing the future. She wishes she could just know the outcome of hockey games before they happen and be done with it. But every gift comes with a catch.

She only hopes Aiden is ready to hear it.