Chapter 46
forty-six
Sunday morning, I wake from the weirdest dream. My sister Becca and I were sitting on the banks of the reservoir. The same one she drowned in. Except, this time, she was a teenager.
She told me I should go back and speak to Madame Solis—the eccentric psychic that Noia made Lizzy, Sasha and I go see for ‘book research’—and that it will help put me on the path to peace. Come to terms with her death.
The sun is shining, crisp morning air flushing my cheeks as I make my way down the sidewalk, thinking about what went down that day.
A couple of weeks ago…
“Where the hell are we going?” Lizzy huffs.
Sasha, Lizzy and I are following Noia down a sidewalk on Willow Lane. Located only a couple of blocks from downtown Lakeside, the street certainly lives up to its name. Lined with towering willow trees, the neighborhood is small-town picturesque.
“I had an idea.” Her eyes twinkle as she glances at us over her shoulder. “It’s mainly for book research, but I thought it would be fun to include all of us.”
She comes to a stop, and I look up to see a cute little cottage covered in creeping ivy.
It has a wrap-around porch with a roof that angles over walls painted a faded lavender. Crystal wind chimes clink softly in the breeze, and a wooden sign shaped like a crescent moon, painted with peeling silver stars, hangs above the steps.
“What in the hell are you up to now?” Sasha deadpans, crossing her arms.
“We have an appointment,” Noia beams, practically vibrating with excitement. “With Madame Solis.”
“Is that an actual person or…?”
“She’s a psychic, Lizzy! I need to know what it’s like to get my aura read for my next heroine. I was nervous about doing this alone, so I booked a group session.”
My eyes go wide and I let out a nervous laugh. “Seriously? A real psychic?”
“Define real,” Lizzy mutters, crossing her arms. “Because if she tells me I’m cursed, I’m outta here.”
“Same,” Sasha and I chime together.
Noia snorts. “Come on! Where’s your sense of adventure, you guys?”
Less than a minute after she knocks, the door swings open to reveal a stunningly beautiful woman who looks to be in her early forties. Thick, gorgeous salt-and-pepper hair falls in waves over her shoulders. She’s wearing a chic emerald-green velvet duster over a fitted black jumpsuit.
“Welcome, ladies.” Her voice is a smooth, melodic purr and if I wasn’t so nervous it might actually sooth. Not today. “I am Madame Solis.”
As she moves aside, waving us in, Lizzy exchanges a skeptical look with Sasha, who just shrugs and steps inside.
Smelling faintly of dried lavender, sweet orange, and cinnamon, the interior is cozy. Bookshelves crammed with worn books line the walls, and a massive collection of hanging Pothos plants frame both front bay windows.
Madame Solis glides toward the center of the room, guiding us toward a large, round wooden table. “Please sit and be at peace.”
I sink into the carved velvet chair, nervously gripping the armrests. My heart is doing this weird stutter-step thing in my chest as the blood rushes in my ears.
Yup. Definitely freaking out.
I believe in psychics. Like, really believe in them.
My grandmother had what she called “the sight.” She’d wake up in the middle of the night and just…
know things. Like who was sick before they had symptoms, when someone was going to die, or when a baby was coming. She never got it wrong. Not once.
And of course, Becca and I had our twin bond. You know, that connection people talk about but don’t really understand unless they’ve lived it? When she cried, I would feel it as if it were happening to me, even if we weren’t together. We even used to finish each other’s sentences.
My stomach twists into a tight little knot.
What if Madame Solis sees? What if she sees the reservoir? How I let my sister slip away?
How I let her die.
My friends don’t know I had a twin sister. They have no idea about the guilt that sits like a stone in my gut. They don’t know about the dreams.
A younger woman appears at the table, startling me out of my internal freak-out as she sets a steaming cup down in front of me, gives a polite nod, and silently disappears back to where she came from.
“Drink,” Madame Solis says, taking a seat at the table. Her dark eyes linger on my face for a fraction of a second longer than it does the rest of my friends. “This herbal blend is specifically designed to open your hearts to the past and prepare your souls for the future.”
I glance down at my cup and then back up.
“What is it? Some sort of hallucinogenic?” Lizzy quips.
Sasha snorts, lifting her cup to sniff it cautiously. “Hmm. Smells like chamomile and honey.”
“Can you two behave for once?” Noia scolds. Lifting her teacup with both hands, she takes a sip, and her eyes widen in surprise. “Oh, wow. This is delicious.”
Casting a nervous glance across the table at Madame Solis, I take a tiny, hesitant sip. “If this makes me confess my sins, I’ll never forgive you, Noia.”
Madame Solis sets her teacup down, and I can literally feel the air in the room as it shifts. Dark, knowing eyes lock onto Noia, who’s practically bouncing up and down in her seat.
“We shall begin with you,” the psychic purrs, reaching out to gently grasp Noia’s hands.
Noia lets out a little squeak, and Sasha snorts, causing my lips to twitch.
Madame Solis makes her way around the table, making me and my friends gasp in shock as she hits every nail on the head.
When she finally shifts her dark, penetrating gaze over to me, what I feel is nothing short of sheer terror. I curl my nails into the tops of my thighs, the sharp bite of pain helping to keep me grounded.
“And now for you, little flame,” Madame Solis says. Holding out her hands, she waits patiently for me to slide my palms into hers.
As soon as I do, she begins.
“Your past is a fire devil of inner darkness blanketed by a bright, bubbly facade,” she says, sweeping her thumbs in circles over my palms. I have to fight every urge not to yank my hands from her gentle grasp.
“You use your warmth and outgoing nature as a shield, keeping things light so no one can see the scars buried deep beneath the surface.”
My eye twitches.
“An anchor weighs heavy on your heart,” Madame Solis continues, voice dropping to a sympathetic murmur. “A storm of emotions reflects a parallel soul lost to water many years ago.”
I literally feel all my blood drain from my face.
Does it suddenly feel like a furnace in here, or is it just me?
“You’ve built a life around using your pain to save others in an attempt to stamp out the guilt,” Solis continues firmly.
“Running into flames, healing the broken. And when the noise in your head grows too loud, you take to the air, dancing in the sky in an attempt to stitch your shattered heart back together.”
A single tear escapes and rolls slowly down my cheek.
“But your present…” The psychic pauses, taking a deep breath. “…is a turbulent storm,” she warns, brow furrowed. “You have collided with a force just as stubborn and guarded as you are—a fearless leader. One consumed by a firewall of uncertainty.”
Holy shit… Is she talking about Logan? She has to be, because Brex is an open freaking book.
“This clash of wills is skewing your aura. Both of your paths are shrouded in a smokescreen of pride and fear. Your future...” Solis pauses, a heavy sigh parting her painted lips. “…is murky at best. Until you stop fighting the flames, you will remain lost in the smoke.”
Well, if that doesn’t sound ominous...
“But there is hope,” she smiles. “Hope that will burn the walls you’re both hiding behind to ash.
I see a flashover. A moment when the tension snaps, and you will have to decide whether to run away from the firestorm or let it consume you.
Do not fear the impending storm, my dear, because it will be—”
Unable to take another second, I yank my hands away, glaring at the psychic in wide-eyed alarm.
Who the hell does this witch think she is?
Stunned silence, thick and suffocating, blankets the room, but Madame Solis doesn’t look offended in the slightest.
Gracefully picking up her delicate teacup, she sits back in her velvet chair with a soft, enigmatic smile. Like she didn’t just tear my carefully constructed world apart.
Noia’s shocked gaze darts around the table, taking in my pale, horrified face, Sasha’s wide, shell-shocked eyes, and Lizzy’s stunned, parted lips.
Quickly clearing her throat, she grabs her purse and stands up so fast she almost knocks over her chair. “Well,” she squeaks. “I think that’s enough research for today. Thank you, Madame Solis, for your time.”
We all jump out of our seats, chairs scraping loudly against the floorboards, practically tripping over each other as we race for the door, spill out onto the porch, and hurry down the steps.
The crisp afternoon air has me immediately wrapping my sweater tighter around myself as we walk, keeping my eyes on my feet.
“Holy shit,” Sasha breathes. “Remind me to never do ‘research’ with you again, Noia.”
“I don’t know,” Lizzy mutters. “I thought it was pretty enlightening. Though I might need a stiff drink to process the fact that my brother is a freaking firestorm.”
She’s not wrong. If only he would open up, maybe we can move forward from the past.