Page 14 of Death

“We should have already told her by now,” Mom replies.

“He asked us not to.”

She exhales hard. “It wasn’t fair to her.”

“Robbing her of a normal life wouldn’t have been either.”

“I know. I know it was the lesser evil, but… dammit, Owen. Seeing her standing with him like that… I’m not ready.”

My heart stops. Not ready? Not ready for what?

“Neither am I,” he says, his voice turning grim. “But that was the deal we made, Moira.”

She says nothing. I stand and wait for more but their silence sits heavy and cold.

VII of Swords.

A card of deception.

Finally, I take the final step down and the old floor creaks beneath my weight. I throw on a smile and make my way into the kitchen, pretending I didn’t hear a word of their conversation.

“Good morning,” I say. I catch a whiff of the air. “Smells good in here.”

“Hey, honey!” My father smiles and wags his spatula around. “We’ve got bacon. We’ve got scrambled eggs. We’ve got animal-shaped pancakes. Your favorite.”

I pull the refrigerator open to grab the orange juice. “Thanks.”

“You better appreciate those unicorns,” he gloats as he points toward the stack of pancakes beside him. “It took a long time to get the horns juuust right.”

I laugh. “You know I do.”

He bends down to kiss the side of my head. “Eat up, baby.”

My mother looks at me as she always does. Her eyes are so full of warmth and love, despite the heavy words she just said. Makes me wonder how many times she’s faked it like this while her inner thoughts lingered on this deal they made.

What deal?

“Any classes today?” she asks me.

I shake my head. “No, I’m free. Just need to stop by Dina’s to return some shoes.”

“Wanna do some shopping?” Dad asks. “Big birthday coming up.”

“Maybe.” I grab a drinking glass from the cupboard. “I have a test coming up; should probably study at some point.”

He waves his spatula again. “Eh, blow it off. Take my credit card and go nuts.”

I squint. “Really?”

“Owen,”Mom scolds.

“Moira, it’s Tannis,” he says with a laugh. “She’s gonna splurge for extra espresso and hit up the bookstore for nine hours.”

I snort. “Yeah, that’s me.”

Mom hesitates, briefly biting her lip before finally smiling. “Okay,” she says, timidly. “She can go nuts for an afternoon.”

Dad fishes his wallet from his back pocket and slides his credit card free while I make myself up a plate. As he slips me the card, he whispers in my ear, “Make it a weekend.”

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