The day before the funeral, Katie showed up on my porch carrying a pie box along with the largest, brightest umbrella I’d ever seen. And it matched her raincoat.

“Good afternoon, Noah,” I said, giving her room to come inside. “When you texted that you’d come by today, I expected you to show up with your menagerie of animals marching inside two by two.”

Her grin positively sparkled. “Aw, bible humor from the local witch. How quaint.”

“Trust me, if I were a witch, I’d be casting spells to end the rain.” I frowned at the too-dark sky. “John Molnar called to warn me that the funeral might be pretty empty because of the weather.”

“I figured as much. People are nervous. You missed the floods of 2012. We lost four houses that year.” She handed me the pie box with a smile. “For you. I remember you used to like the peach tarts my mom made, and this is the closest thing to those that I do.”

“Peach pie?”

“Better.”

I opened the lid, groaning when the smells of sugar and cinnamon and peach washed over me. “Cobbler.”

“Yup. Old-school and totally not fancy, but delicious and perfect for eating your feelings.” She hung up her coat and removed her boots, offering me a half smile when she was done. “New day, new feelings. How are you doing?”

I shrugged because, really… How could I answer that?

Katie didn’t seem to need more, though. “My favorite memory of Miss was from an elementary school bake sale when I was in first grade. She brought in these cookies with Miss Piggy faces painted on them in icing. But she’d had the heat too high on the way to Rock Falls, and the icing had melted so they looked like horrible pink monsters instead. And when she saw them, she looked right at me, held one up, and said, ‘Remember, little one. Always eat the bad guys before they eat you.’ And then she ate that horrible, monster-faced cookie with a smile.”

I laughed, hard and loud and strong right there in the foyer of the house where Miss had just recently died. “That sounds exactly like something she would have done. I love it, thank you for sharing that story with me.”

“You’re welcome. Now, tell me really—how are you holding up? What can I do to help?”

That was easy enough. I’d been alone in the house too much, enough that a chat with an old friend sounded like heaven. “Have a cup of tea with me, and let’s go over grand opening details. I need a distraction.”

Katie’s smile widened. “Done.”

I led her to the kitchen, still basking in the warmth her story had brought me. It truly did sound exactly like something Miss would have done—taken a bad situation and made it better. She’d done that by taking me in. She’d done it a second time by sending me to Vegas to live with a friend of hers who worked the Strip as a medium. She’d continued doing it by accepting that I wouldn’t come back and spending every vacation in Vegas with me. She was a fixer even when she didn’t know how to fix something. I would truly miss her.

“Are these your cards?” Katie asked, staring down at the tarot spread I’d been pulling when she rang the bell.

“Sure are.”

“Is it true you only use the one deck?”

“How did you—”

“You did that interview on the Vegas morning channel last year.” She shrugged, nudging a card with the very tip of her finger. “I watched it on YouTube.”

Of course she did. “Ah, well yes, that’s true. Miss bought me these cards when I came to live with her and showed an interest in them. It’s the only deck I use, and we work well together.”

“The cards work with you?”

“Absolutely. Decks have personalities. In fact, Miss used to have a deck that hated men. Every time she tried to read for a guy, the cards would only show death, destruction, and humiliation. It was funny, really. Taught me a lot about how to manipulate a card to mess with someone’s head.” I nodded toward the spread of cards on the counter. “Would you like me to read for you?”

“Oh, no. That’s not why I came here.”

But she couldn’t stop looking at the cards, so I picked them up and shuffled, sensing her interest. “How about one card? A quick and dirty read of your life.” I fanned the deck in my hands and leaned toward her. “Pick one. Just one.”

Katie bit her lip before focusing on the cards. It took her a good fifteen seconds to choose the card she wanted and pull it from the deck.

“It’s my first time.” She handed the card to me with a cautious smile. “Be gentle.”

“I’m always gentle.”

The card staring back at me featured a couple holding hands, with an older woman watching over them. I raised my eyebrows as I looked back at Katie. “Are you in a relationship?”

“Nope,” she said. “Single as the day is long.”

“That long day is coming to a close. You pulled the lovers.” I tucked the card back into the deck. “The lovers card symbolizes choice—you, not being in a relationship, will have the choice soon to grow into one. To pick a partner and join your souls so they’re no longer two separate entities, but three counting the combined one. It’s a good card.”

“Does it say who that partner will be?”

“No, I’m sorry. That would have been more Miss’ skill than mine.”

Just saying her name, remembering all the times she’d tell me about the souls and the spirits and the cards themselves, made my heart hurt again. I hadn’t gotten enough time with her. Not nearly enough minutes to simply talk and tell stories. But she was gone, and I would never get another chance.

“Maybe this new man will show up at the party. Which reminds me,” Katie started as she settled at the little table by the window, pulling me from my thoughts of Miss and loss. Thank goodness. “I was thinking I’d serve small plates.” She held up her hand as I opened my mouth to argue. “I know with the type of guys they grow here in Justice, you’ll say I should serve full portions. But I really think if they try more than one or two things, I’ll make a better impression. I can make like eight entrees, four soups, and three desserts. Keep the plates small but constant so they eat throughout the event.”

Huh. That wasn’t what I would have done, and yet… “It sounds perfect. They’ll only get grumbly about the size of the portion with the first plate.”

“Right, plus I can put full-size portions on display in the dessert case so they know exactly what they’d get with a regular order.”

I handed her a cup of steaming water and laid my collection of teas in front of her before taking a seat. “You are brilliant. All the men in town will quickly fall under the spell of your delicious food and offer their undying affection for your hand.”

“Lord, I wish. Not to be blunt, but I’ve been in a bit of a dry spell lately.”

Okay. So…we were going there. “Sometimes a break is good.”

“A three-year break? No. That’s not good. It’s practically sadistic.”

I hadn’t had sex in far longer than three years, but I wasn’t about to tell her that. “Anyone caught your eye?”

She looked away, blushing. “I mean… I’ve had a crush on Bishop practically since birth.”

The world went gray, and my breath caught. Oh God, if she told me she was dating him, that she’d had sex with him…that she had fallen in love with my…my…

I couldn’t even think it.

“Oh.” I stared down into my tea, unable to come up with more words.

Katie just laughed, though. “My God, quit looking like I just kicked your puppy. I would never try to date him—there’s no way I’d be able to fill your shoes there. Besides, Bishop doesn’t date.”

“What do you mean, he doesn’t date?”

“Just what I said—the man doesn’t date. Hasn’t since he came home from the military as far as I know. At least, that’s what Mercy told me.”

“Military?” Bishop was in the military? Mercy…Mercy…that sounded so familiar. “And who’s Mercy?”

“You don’t remember her? Her family owns the hardware store in town. She dated—”

“Finn.” Of course—Mercy Bell. Finn’s girlfriend his senior year of high school. She hadn’t liked me much, probably because of how close I was with her man. But Finn and I had been friends for years at that point. He was the one who’d introduced me to his brother.

“Mercy’s still here? I thought she had plans to go to college after high school.”

“She did, but like a lot of us, she came back. She got some sort of business degree online and runs the hardware store for her dad now. And she has a kid.”

That… Wow. That news hit me harder than it should have. My heart stuttered, and a wave of something close to jealousy washed over me. “Is it Finn’s?”

“Oh, gosh no. She left him long before that. I don’t even think they made it to graduation.”

Yeah, neither had I. After I’d found out about Finn and the drugs, after everything that happened that spring, I’d skipped out of town without even finishing my senior year. Miss had sent me to Vegas, knowing I needed a different scene, but she’d demanded I get my GED or she’d drag my ass back to Justice to deal with everything head on. I hadn’t been ready to do that, so I’d followed her direction, earning my GED before that first summer had ended, even completing a tech school program to become a dental hygienist. I’d never needed it, though. Once I’d earned that first dollar reading tea leaves, I’d known I’d found my calling.

Sadly, it had been without Bishop by my side. Back then, before everything had gone to shit, I’d wanted to marry Bishop Kennard. He’d stolen my heart slowly, breaking down walls I hadn’t even known I’d built up with his charm and kindness, the way he evoked feelings within me. Giving me that smile that I felt in my knees. And if I was being honest with myself, he still held a big chunk of my heart. A chunk I knew I’d never get back.

“As much as I hate to do it so soon, I should get going.” Katie stood suddenly, yanking me from my nostalgia. “I’ve got pies to bake and prep work to do. Oh, speaking of which, I’ll be bringing little things to nosh on to the funeral, so don’t agree to Molnar’s jacked-up prices for any of that.”

I followed her down the hall toward the foyer. “You have your party the next night. I can’t ask you to make food.”

“You’re not. I’m basically inserting myself into your life and forcing you to accept it.”

Her sweetness was going to make me cry. “Thank you. I greatly appreciate it, and I’d be happy to pay you instead of Molnar. I’m sure your food will be better anyway.”

“Don’t worry about it. I already let the Kennards know they’d be getting a bill.”

My back went stiff. “Pardon?”

She paused, raincoat half on, surprise evident on her face. “This is Justice, Anabeth. The Kennards pay for every funeral. It’s tradition.”

Of course they would. “Fine. Then I’m refusing payment for the tarot card reading at your event.” I held up my finger, this time stopping her. “Don’t even think about arguing. I wasn’t going to accept it anyway.”

She shrugged her coat on, giving me a solidly fake glare. “You drive a hard bargain.”

“Never fuck with a Vegas performer. We know where they hide the bodies.”

Katie laughed and tugged on her boots before giving me a hug. “It was good to see you. Call me if you need anything, okay?”

“I will.” I wouldn’t, but she probably knew that.

As I opened the door for her, the wind blew, and the view to the woods cleared for just a moment. Long enough to see a glimpse of a shadow that shouldn’t have been there. I stared hard, trying to see it again, but the rain made everything seem blurry and indistinct. Either that, or being alone in the house so much had started a sort of weird paranoia in me. All those stories of the Soul Suckers definitely weren’t helping.

Once Katie had driven down the driveway and turned onto the road, I shut the door. And I locked it. Not my usual habit out here, but something that seemed like the right thing to do. The ticking of the clock in the living room seemed too loud—gunshots in the dimming daylight—and the house suddenly felt almost oppressive. Too big, too empty. Too many memories of all the things I’d given up along the way. Or lost.

God, so much loss.

I was back in the kitchen making another cup of tea when the feeling of being watched washed over me. I glanced at my phone on the counter, remembering how Bishop had said to call him if anything seemed wrong, but I didn’t reach for it. Not yet, at least. I was an independent woman who’d lived on her own for years in a bigger, meaner city than Justice would ever be. So instead, I walked over to the windows, looking out into the rainy gloom of the early evening.

Nothing to see but water.

“Stupid, silly girl.” Still, the feeling refused to let me go. Anxious, scattered, and slightly jumpy, I nearly screamed when the kettle began to whistle. I rushed to the stove to turn the water off. Instead of feeding into the silly fear making my heart pound, I poured the water into my tea press, watching the leaves dance over the little filter. Starting to count to get just the right brew. When I reached the two-minute mark, I poured the tea into my mug before turning around. The deck of tarot cards called to me, sitting there all neat and tidy. Waiting for me to pull and read them.

“Just one,” I said, reaching for the deck and giving myself over to my instincts. I pulled a single card, one that sent a shiver up my spine, before turning it around.

Death.

I never liked pulling the death card during a reading, but most people reacted to the name and didn’t listen to the truth behind it. The death card didn’t signify a loss of life—it meant an end to something. A phase of transition. In the picture on the face, the sky was not completely black but gray, and the sun had not yet set. It was a card that spoke of a definite ending and an elimination of much of the past. It signified the death of the way things had been.

The only thought in my head as I stared at that card was Bishop. My relationship with him. Our past. I’d never told him why I left. Maybe that’s what the card meant. An opening up of my soul for Bishop to judge. An ending to missing him and wanting him back.

A true ending to our relationship.

That thought had me tossing the card toward the rest of the deck and stepping away from the counter…

And promptly spilling hot tea all over myself when I saw a man’s face staring back at me through the kitchen window.