Page 102 of Repairing the Wreckage

“Where did you two go that you got so…muddy?” I ask.

Hayden waves her hand toward the big tent. “This haunted house thing. It’s really cool but the ground is a mess over there.”

My aching feet force us to walk at a slower pace. But it gives Darcy and Kyla time to dart in and out of the small shops and let us know if there’s anything good inside we need to check out.

“Ah! That place has clothes.” Darcy points to a brightly colored tent up ahead. “Let’s see if they have some cheap shoes.” She grabs Kyla’s arm and starts dragging her away.

“We’ll catch up.” Hayden stops walking.

I stop my pathetic limping and turn toward her. “What is it?”

“We have to do it, Molly.” She clasps her hands under her chin. “Please?”

“Do what?”

She thrusts her arm out and points at the narrow red tent in front of us.

Madame Nova Darkwater, Fortune Teller is printed in gothic script on a sign.

I side-eye Hayden. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

“Come on, it’ll be fun!” she pleads, tugging on my arm.

“Fine,” I groan.

“Welcome, ladies,” a woman greets us as we push our way through layers of sheer curtains. Soft, colorful lighting floats in the dim space, giving it an otherworldly feel.

The woman’s sitting at a round table with two stools on the opposite side. She’s wearing a long-sleeved red dress with silver embroidery. A matching silver scarf’s tied around her head, hiding a good portion of her long, wavy red hair. Large gold hoops swing from each ear. Pretty much what I’d expect a carnival fortune teller to be wearing. There’s no crystal ball on her table, though. Just a thick, dark-red velvet cloth and a deck of Tarot cards still in the box.

I plop down on one of the low, red velvet stools and Hayden sits on the one next to me.

The woman stretches her arms across the table with her hands up and lifts an eyebrow at me. After a second of hesitation, I rest my hands on top of hers. She gently wraps her soft, warm fingers around mine.

“What do you seek to know, Molly?” she asks.

Her skin’s smooth and unlined. She’s younger than I’d expect. Maybe my brother’s age? But she speaks with the attitude of someone much older.

Wait, how’d she know my name?

I open my mouth to ask, and she shakes her head. “Focus on the question.”

“I don’t know.” I tilt my head toward Hayden. “She made me come in here.”

One corner of the medium’s mouth lifts. “At your age, I assume it’s about a boy.” She closes her eyes, her face settling into an impassive mask. “Ah, two boys. Interesting. One you love deeply who broke your heart. And the other one you like but…” She stops, thank God. “You still love the first one. There was a misunderstanding? You were embarrassed very publicly. Betrayed.” Her carefully groomed eyebrows pinch together. “So much guilt.”

Whose guilt? Griff’s or mine?

Her accuracy is so damn freaky. Did Hayden set me up?

The woman opens her eyes. Even under the odd lighting inside the tent, her blue-green irises shine like sea glass, staring straight through me.

“Holding onto all this unresolved anger and shame is much like sitting in the middle of a fire and hoping those who wronged you are the ones who will get burned,” she says. “Tell him the truth. All of it.”

This isn’t fun anymore. I yank my hands away from her voodoo table, praying it breaks whatever psychic connection we’ve established. “Thank you for the advice.” I shoot a glare at Hayden. “It’s your turn now.”

The medium smirks. “Follow your heart, Molly.”

“My heart is unreliable,” I mutter.

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