Page 146 of A Dead Girl's Guide to Living
“Okay,” I murmured gently, snapping the deck between my palms. “I want to do a Celtic Cross tonight.”
“Yeow,” Liv said with a curl of her lip and a twinkle in her eye. “Talk dirty to me.”
I snorted. “Very funny. No, a Celtic Cross is a spread used for bigger questions. It’s about understanding where you are, what’s shaping you, and what lies ahead, along with a few bits in between. I think it’s the best spread for you.”
She nodded once, mouth pressed into a thin line, shoulders stiff as she sat a little more rigidly.
I held out the weathered deck. “See if you can shuffle them. It’s fine if you can’t.”
Her hands hovered over the cards before she tentatively took them from me, as if afraid they might fall right through. But theydidn’t. Not entirely. The deck trembled—I noticed it, and Ellis’s sharp intake of breath confirmed it—but they stayed. And I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel something deep in my stomach as Liv touched those cards.
“Intent matters,” I said softly. “So whatever it is you’re asking, Liv—put those questions into the cards. Let them carry the answers to you, okay?”
Liv nodded stiffly, her jaw tight as she slowly shuffled the deck—clumsy, but honest. When she finally felt satisfied, she handed them back to me, something fierce and uncertain warring in her eyes.
I took them gingerly. They suddenly felt much heavier in my hands. I took a beat.
“Okay, so the first card in the cross—for your present,” I said, taking the top card and flipping it over. “The Moon.”
I stared down at the image, at the shadowed pathway, the howling wolves, the light that seemed to drip in a haunting, silvery way.
Liv leaned closer.
“It’s about illusion,” I told her, tapping the card. “Uncertainty. Things being unclear. It’s fear of what’s ahead because you can’t quite see the road, but it’s also about intuition. When your subconscious speaks, even when nothing else will.”
Liv said nothing, her brows knitting together as I spoke.
“To me, it’s where you are right now,” I went on, watching her face, feeling that pulse of energy again. “You’re standing between what’s real and what’s imagined, like you’re walking through fog. And there are questions you’re still afraid to ask, and the fear that you’ll never find your way out.”
She let out a rush of air, even though she didn’t need to breathe. It was the most human reaction I had ever seen from her.
“This card doesn’t mean you’re lost, Liv,” I continued softly. “It just means the answers you need won’t come from facts but from what you already know… deep down.” I paused, searching her eyes, my skin tingling. “It’s been like that—even when you were alive.”
Liv toyed with a strand of her pink hair, her gaze locked on the card.
“The moon doesn’t give clarity,” I murmured. “It just reminds you the light is still there.”
Beside me, Ellis sucked in a small breath.
I tapped the deck and picked up the next card, placing it down without looking. It landed faceup on the white duvet, staring back at us.
Eight of Swords.
“This is where you are now,” I told her, glancing up to meet her eyes. “Your challenge. This card is about being trapped, but not by someone else. Not the world. Not even death.” I licked my dry lips, tapped the card once, and straightened my spine. “You’re trapped by you.”
Liv blinked and looked at me sharply.
“You think you’re stuck here because of unfinished business, or rules, or karma—or punishment,” I said, my voice thick, the words spilling out before I could stop them. “But really, it’s you. Yes, you’re strapped to Ellis. But you could’ve been strapped to anyone you gave your organs to. You got Ellis—a vessel to help you finish things—because you weren’t ready when you died.”
Liv stilled. Her eyes didn’t move from the cards.
“You chose to be here. You came back because of fear. Or guilt. Or the belief that you owe some kind of penance. That you don’t deserve to move on. You feel like you messed up. That you should’ve listened.”
Listened to who? I wondered, the thought whispering through my head as the words left my mouth.
“I’d still be alive if I listened,” Liv uttered—so softly, I almost didn’t hear her.
“That’s the sword at your feet you think is impaling you, but it’s not. Your pain is keeping you frozen, Liv. So much buried pain and unspoken words you never said when you were alive.” I glanced back down at the card, the image of a woman surrounded by a cage of swords, one she could walk out of at any time, if only she realized it.
