Page 83 of Choosing Stella

The pressure behind my eye sharpened.

“No.”

I wasn’t saying no to the cards. I was saying no to the feeling that came with them.

I stared at the images.

The Moon gave me uncertainty, distortion, things hidden behind what appeared obvious.

The Seven of Swords pointed to deception—a lie, someone moving around the truth instead of through it.

My stomach rolled.

I put both hands flat against the table.

The safe house shifted slightly beneath me.

I closed my eyes.

A fragment came.

There was no face or room, nothing clean enough to use.

I only knew that something being offered as protection was part of the lie.

I couldn’t trust it just because someone called it safe.

Then the image vanished.

Pain punched behind my eye.

I bent forward and breathed through the nausea.

“Stella?”

Geo’s voice came from the hallway.

I opened my eyes.

He was already moving toward me, trousers on and shirtless.

He glanced at the cards.

“What happened?”

“I pulled two.”

He stopped beside the table.

“You look sick.”

“I feel sick.”

Geo reached for the water pitcher and filled my glass.

He set it beside me.

“What did you get?”