Page 22 of All Your Tomorrows

“The world works in mysterious ways,” she said. “You just never know in cases like these.”

“I’ll keep praying for him,” I assured her.

“He needs all the prayers he can get.”

Kyler looked at me and something about the sadness in his eyes told me he knew—after seeing himself—that the odds of him ever waking up were not very good.

CHAPTER 7

“Trish,” I called, placing a mocha latte on the counter. Christmas music played in the background as a woman maneuvered through the groups of people waiting for their orders.

“What time’s your reading today?” Daci asked.

I spun around and grabbed the coffee she just made. “Four.”

“Do you need to meditate first?”

I swiped the caramel bottle and squirted a heart-shaped design on the top of the frothed milk in the cup. “Yeah, but only for a few minutes. I’ve already been getting visions of her loved ones.” I placed the cup down on the counter. “Steve,” I called as the man who ordered the drink made his way over to grab it.

“Hi, Nora.”

I spun around, my eyes widening on Zoe. Her red hair was curled and shorter than it had been the last time I’d seen her.

Daci stepped up beside me, glaring at Zoe. “We’re out of everything. You should leave.”

“I think Nora can speak for herself,” Zoe said with her chin lifted in bravado.

“You should leave,” I said before addressing the next woman in line. “May I help you?”

Zoe pushed her way in front of the woman. “You have to talk to me sometime, Nora.”

“I’m surprised you’re here and not off stealing someone else’s boyfriend,” I said.

“Are you really gonna throw away three years of friendship?”

I scoffed. “I didn’t throw it away.Youdid.”

“Rick and I aren’t together anymore,” she said.

“I don’t care.”

Her gaze lowered. “I guess once a cheater always a cheater.”

I nearly choked on my own laughter. “Please tell me you’re not here thinking I’m going to feel sorry for you.”

Her eyes lifted to mine. “I just thought you’d want to know.”

“Well, you’re wrong.”

I looked around her to the woman she cut in line. “May I help you?”

“Hot chocolate with skim milk and a slice of lemon pie,” the woman said around Zoe’s back.

I turned to the hot chocolate machine and grabbed a mug, mixing in skim milk and chocolate syrup as it poured.

“Is Izzy home yet?” Zoe asked.

I didn’t turn back to her. “You have her number.”

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