Page 62 of Death Card

I slowly extend a finger toward the Moon. As soon as I touch the edge of the card, I’m thrust into a vision. Two masked figures stand before me, cast in shadow. Their cruel laughter echoes through the dark clearing as a chill settles over my skin. The vision fades as quickly as it appeared.

When the Moon appears in a reading, it can symbolize a hidden truth that needs to be unveiled. This vision took place in the very same clearing where Joelle is meant to stab me. But who were those masked figures? There’s still another piece to this mystery that I’m meant to uncover.

When I reach for the Ten of Cups, the vision is brief. There’s a flash of Joelle and me laughing, and then my room settles back into view.

The Ten of Cups is meant to show me my happily-ever-after. Every vision she’s in leaves me more confused than the last. If this vision is to be trusted, then we have happy times ahead of us. But how could that be when being with Joelle will lead tothe end of my life? Maybe these visions aren’t so accurate after all.

I lean back, stumped. For the first time, I wish I’d never been given this gift. Other people are able to exist in blissful ignorance, but I’ve been cursed with sight.

I stuff the deck of cards deep into the recess of my nightstand. I’ve had enough of these visions.

Orion meets me on the front porch with a granola bar. “Eat up,” he demands. “You’ll need the energy.”

I stare down at the packaging, not hungry in the slightest. “Where’s Gramps?” I’m worried he’ll ask what we’re up to.

“I saw him on the way out. He’s meeting with Chris’s parents and then headed to volunteer at a food bank.”

Gramps has been so busy lately, I have no idea how he’s still standing. As the future Queen, I should also be meeting with Chris’s parents, but I don’t know how I would be able to look them in the eyes. Their son died right in front of me, and even though I tried, I couldn’t save him.

Once we’re in the car, Orion plugs an address into his GPS. It’s a thirty-minute drive to Slidell. I study his profile as we maneuver through the busy streets and onto the highway. Ri’s been through a lot, but he seems to be handling it better than before. I don’t smell alcohol on his breath or weed on his clothes. His twists are tied up in a half pony, and his eyes are clearer than they’ve been in a while.

Once we’re on the bridge over Lake Pontchartrain, I turn down the knob for the music. Orion’s completely relaxed. He’s got one hand on the wheel and the other resting on the center console. Unlike me, he has no problem driving over water.

“How are you doing with…everything?” I ask, gesturing with my hands.

His grip tightens on the wheel, but he doesn’t look away from the road. “With Gran, there wasn’t anything I could do. It was her own body that failed her.” His jaw clenches. “But I can get revenge for Chris. There’s an enemy I can face.”

“I’m really sorry.” I turn my head so he doesn’t see my lip wobble. “I couldn’t save him.”

Orion’s touch on my arm drags me back from the edge. “Hey, I was there too, remember? That was some dark shit.” He sighs. “We tried our best, and that’s all we can do.”

I choke out a laugh and wipe my eyes. “When did you get wise?”

He just shakes his head and turns the music back up.

I peer out the window until the GPS announces that we’re a few miles away.

“How do you know this guy, anyway?” I ask. “And why’s he got a boat?”

Orion keeps his gaze trained on the road. “He’s a friend.”

“That’s vague as hell.”

He cuts his eyes over to me. “We’ve made out once or twice. Is that enough information for you?”

I mime vomiting all over the floor, but he only shakes his head.

“He’s got a boat because his parents run one of those swamp tours for tourists,” he says. “He’s gonna take us and pick us up in between tours.”

“And he knows for sure where Sabine lives? You sent him the directions Aunt Roberta gave me?”

“He does.” Orion flips his blinker and merges into the otherlane. “Andrew knows the bayou inside and out. Once I sent him the directions, he said he had a good idea of which house it is. Not too many people live out this way. In his words, ‘Only the brave ones or the crazy ones, or a combination of both.’ ”

I rack my brain, trying to dig up a memory of Sabine, but I come up short. “Do you remember what she looks like? She was around when we were little.”

He nods. “I think so. I have these faint memories of Gran sitting in the kitchen with her after school. They would talk and prep food together. One day, she disappeared, and I never saw her again.”

I’ve always thought of my brother as being distracted, concerned only with his own life. But he has a memory of Gran that I don’t—a missing piece to the puzzle of her life.