I try my mom's cell phone again, but it's still turned off. Finally I decide to leave a message at our house, telling her why I'm not home. Well, not with all the gory details. I don't want her to freak. “Where do you think Zach and Tate are now?” I ask Ebony. “The sheriff said that Tate's uncle's cabin burned to the ground,” she explains. “Just like in your dream.” “But the guy, the one who was shot in the back, wasn't he actually wearing a denim jacket and Adidas tennis shoes?” “According to the sheriff.” “But lots of people wear denim jackets,” points out Eric. “I have a couple myself. And Adidas are pretty common too.” “Common…but why was that exactly like my dream?” I persist, still trying to make sense of this puzzle. “And why was I so certain it was Zach?” “But you never saw Zach's face, did you?” “No,” I admit. “I guess I just assumed it was him.” “I wonder who that guy really was,” says Ebony. “Zach and Tate didn't mention anyone else going snowboarding with them, did they?”
