Page 101 of The Next Lie

I yank my hand back. This time the woman lets me.

“I’m done.”

Sonny’s voice is quiet. “Reva.”

“I’m done.”

The palm reader folds her hands on the table. “A woman you buried breathes again.”

My vision blurs at the edges.

Delia. She has to mean Delia.

I stand too fast, bumping the table with my thigh. A deck of cards shifts near the woman’s elbow.

Sonny grabs my arm. “We’re leaving.”

The woman nods once, calm as a church bell. “Tell the quiet man outside he cannot stop what is already walking toward you.”

I do not ask which quiet man. In my life, there are too many candidates.

Sonny gets me out of the shop before I can say anything regrettable. The heat outside feels like a slap. I suck in air that tastes like exhaust, sugar, and beer spilled long before noon, then bend over with my hands on my knees.

Sonny rubs my back. “Okay. That was less silly than advertised.”

“You think?”

“In my defense, most of them tell you you’ll meet a tall, dark stranger and take a trip.”

“I have met too many tall, dark strangers.”

“Fair.”

Ever is suddenly beside us. So much for distance.

His hand lands lightly between my shoulder blades. “What happened?”

“Tourism,” I say.

He looks at Sonny.

Sonny winces. “I took her for a palm reading.”

Ever’s gaze cuts to the shop.

I grab his wrist before he can do whatever his face is suggesting. “Don’t.”

“What did she say?”

“Things.”

His eyes come back to mine. “Specific things?”

“Yes.”

Sonny lifts one finger. “Deeply upsetting specific things.”

Ever’s jaw tightens.