The first time Jenni Martin remembered tomorrow, she thought she was losing her mind. It began with the rain. Not ordinary rain, not the soft silver kind that turned the schoolyard asphalt black and made children press their faces to classroom windows, but rain that arrived exactly as she knew it would. That was the beginning.

At first, tomorrow came to her in fragments. A phone call from her sister asking if Jenni had remembered her mother’s birthday. She started writing everything down. Names. Weather. Accidents. Words people said before they said them. For three weeks, she told no one. Then came the accident.

A boy named Noah Price ran across the road outside the school gate chasing a football. Jenni remembered the scream before she heard it. She remembered the white delivery van. She remembered the driver’s face, twisted in horror behind the windscreen. So when the ball bounced into the street, Jenni was already running.