Dr. St. John,

I am no saint, but when I see a blatant error about to be made, I step in.  Clark was almost sent packing when I saw him all-too-familiar with a rather arresting woman not named Victoria Winters.  I almost told the whole thing, but for Vicky’s sake, and with his assurance, I held myself back.

Now, I’ve had a dream of her wedding that ended in her death.  I NEVER put stock in dreams.  But this feels real.  All too real.

I have to stop it.




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