Page 77 of Fortune's Kiss
Still moving, she turned to the other table where Mayté and Carlos sat.Carlos looked perplexed, but Mayté had tears streaming down her face.
Why would she be so sad?
This was supposed to be a happy moment.She finally found Mamá.
Mayté tugged Carlos’s shirt and whispered something into his ear.His face transformed from confusion into pure sorrow and pity as he gazed at Lo.
But why?
Something was wrong.
“Mamá,” Lo murmured as the two circled each other.But Mamá didn’t react.
The music grew louder and off-key.It rang through her skull, and Lo almost tripped over herself.
This wasn’t Mamá.
It was a card.
And if the card took on Mamá’s form …
She was dead.Just like Señora Montoya.
This card had killed her.
Mamá was gone.
She died—here.
All this time, everyone else had been right.Lo had been the delusional one.
The world blurred with tears.She wanted to fall to the floor in grief.But her body kept dancing.If she stopped now, she wouldn’t survive.
She caught sight of Mayté, who suddenly looked smug.Fury bubbled in Lo’s veins.No, that couldn’t be right.This was another trick from the house.Lo spun with La Dama.When she glanced at Mayté a moment later, tears once again soaked her friend’s cheeks.That was the truth, but somehow it made Lo feel even angrier.
And soon, but not soon enough, the music stopped.La Dama curtsied before vanishing.
“Congratulations, Lorena,” Misterioso said.“Now return to your seat and place a bean over La Dama.”
Returning to her seat felt like a blur.She could barely remember putting a bean down.She gripped the edge of the chair, tempted to yank it up and hurl it across the room.But she resisted the urge.Barely.
“Lorena?”Dominic whispered.
She looked away, only to see Don Zelaya staring curiously at her, as if watching a performance.But this was real life.
Keep it together.She still needed to survive this round.
“We continue.”Pearla drew the next card and called out, but Lo barely heard her.Her heart wouldn’t stop pounding and her face flushed with unpleasant heat.The fiery rage burned inside her cheeks and stomach.
This house had stolen Mamá from her.Itwas the reason her life was as miserable as el infierno.
A bony arm stuck out of the card, flesh grayish and dead.A decaying finger pointed at Don Zelaya.
“Are you okay?”Dominic asked.
“Yes, yes,” she gritted out, on the verge of snapping.“What is this card?”
He warily eyed the card.“El Enterrado.”
