Page 6 of Choosing Stella

“What should I be watching for?”

“That’s broad.”

“So is my life.”

“I can tell.”

His eyes narrowed with amusement.

“Is that judgment?”

“It’s square footage.”

He laughed.

I shuffled.

Cards slid against one another with the soft, dry whisper I’d known for years.

Most readings were exactly what they appeared to be: cards, symbols, patterns, and a person across from me bringing half the answer before I turned over the first one.

Sometimes there was more.

I didn’t decide when.

I cut the deck and gave it to Antonio.

“Three piles. Then put them back together however you want.”

He did.

I drew the first card.

The Tower.

Antonio leaned forward.

“Well. That seems cheerful.”

“It rarely means a quiet week.”

I turned the next card.

Five of Swords.

The pressure started behind my right eye.

It wasn’t pain yet, just a warning.

I drew the third.

Three of Pentacles, reversed.

My fingertips went cold.

Antonio watched my face instead of the spread.

“What?”