Self-Fulfilling Prophecy

“All right, all right.” She raised her hands in surrender. “I shall say no more of your mother. But know this. I have seen something quite bad.” Leaning forward, she lowered her voice till it was a gravely whisper. A streak of dimming light glinted off of the glassy concave of her fake eye, adding to the chill running through Petrovich’s spine. “Someone will die. A loved one or someone you trust. By your hand. Before the week is over.”