Page 27 of Beneath the Desert Bloom
Yeah, she looked fine.
Totally fine.
A car door slammed outside.
Nora blinked and turned toward the sound, heart already stuttering. Then came the yip of a tiny dog.
“Shit,” she muttered, scrubbing her hands on a dish towel.
By the time she got to the front door, Lauren was halfway up the steps, suitcase in one hand and a tiny, white Papillon tucked under the other arm like a living accessory.
“There you are!” Lauren called, sunglasses sliding down her nose. “Were you asleep? You look like you just woke up inside a wind tunnel.”
Nora forced a smile. “Welcome to the glamorous high desert.”
The dog barked once at her, high-pitched and suspicious.
“I brought Miso,” Lauren said, bending to set the dog down. “He needed a vacation too.”
Miso gave Nora a dubious sniff and circled her feet twice before sneezing.
Lauren looked up at the house, then at the cracked landscape around them. “Okay, I know I said I wanted to see where you grew up, but I thought there’d at least be a coffee shop within walking distance.”
Nora opened the door. “Come in. I’ll show you where the ghosts are buried.”
Lauren stepped in and stopped short. Her gaze swept over Nora once. Then twice. Then she squinted, like something wasn’t computing.
“Okay,” she said slowly. “What the hell is going on with you?”
Nora blinked. “What?”
Lauren pointed vaguely at her face. “Your eyes are… doing something. You look like one of those models in perfume commercials…like you’re about to whisper a prophecy.”
“I think that’s just sleep deprivation,” Nora said quickly. “Or dehydration.”
Lauren didn’t buy it. She leaned in and squinted closer.
“Uh-uh. No. You’re glowing. Like actually glowing. Did you join a cult? Did you microdose without me?”
“I changed the sheets,” Nora offered, like it might explain something.
Lauren hugged her, and then pulled back sharply. “Jesus, you’re burning up. Are you sick or just feral now?”
Nora snorted and turned away before her expression could give anything else away. “Feral,” she said, walking into the kitchen. “Definitely feral.”
Lauren followed. “God, it’s just like I imagined. Smells the same. Looks the same. Except you. You’re different. Your vibe is…” She narrowed her eyes. “Sex witchy.”
Nora dropped two mugs on the counter. “Great. Can’t wait to put that on my résumé.”
“So this is the murder house,” Lauren said, looking around. “This is where you’ve been hiding.”
“It’s not a murder house.”
“It has murder house energy.”
Nora rolled her eyes. “It has mid-century bones and a ghost lizard that lives in the kitchen. Show some respect.”
Lauren flipped through one of the journals on the counter. “So your grandfather really was out here chasing Bigfoot? No wonder you turned out weird.”
