Have I mentioned that I got Nora into true-crime podcasts? We sometimes spend weekends binge-listening to them in our pajamas, working on fifteen-hundred-piece jigsaws.

Ever: Cakes that look like burgers or poop or soccer fields aren’t cute. They’re disturbing. The dissonance between the visual and the taste buds makes the whole eating experience chaotic and unpleasant. I want my cake to look like a cake. Not like a Doritos bag. This is my truth. Thanks for coming to my TED talk.

Her answer comes promptly.

Nora: Okay, weirdo. See you at home.

FIVE

Later that day, when I get back home from a shift at the witchcraft store, Nora is there, sans Colt. It shouldn’t make me happy. There is nothing wrong with Colt. He’s a great guy. But I still find myself giddy that we have some alone time.

“Well!” Nora is perched on our threadbare sofa, feet propped on the coffee table, Loki in her lap. She scratches his lower back, by his tail. His butt is arched right in her face. “Tell me all about the guy you picked up Sir Meows-a-Lot from.”

I drop my backpack by the door and make my way to her, then throw myself on the couch. “He is twenty-nine. A nurse. Super nice, super hot, super the opposite of me in every way . . . which made the fact he asked me out pretty shocking.”

“Shut up!” Nora sits upright, shrieking. The sudden movement makes Loki jump from her lap to the floor. “When are you going? What are you wearing? Do you have his last name so we can cyberstalk him?”

Shaking my head, I laugh. “I said he asked me out. I didn’t say I said yes.”

“Of course you didn’t.” Her shoulders sag in disappointment. “Why, I ask? Why!”

Nora is in the same vein of Pippa—funny, eccentric, cup-half-full kind of girl—only not as crazy, impulsive, and daring as my former best friend. I can see the two of them hitting it off, and it makes me sad they’ll never know each other. Despite Nora’s bubbly, outgoing nature, what she does for a living is pretty intense. She is a mortuary makeup artist. She works for Saint Mary’s Funeral Home. I once asked her what made her choose this line of work. I needed to know if she had a Cousin Shauna story that had turned her life upside down too.

But she just shrugged and said, Nothing really happened. Originally, I wanted to go to beauty school. Then my mom told me she knows a cosmetologist and that she makes good money, works few hours, and is basically helping people and making a change. This was exactly what I wanted for myself. Not many people are drawn to this profession, but someone’s gotta do it. It’s an honor to prepare people for their last journey. Make sure the last time their loved ones see them, they don’t see the horrors they’ve been through.

It surprised me. I couldn’t shake the feeling that death chased me, even when I tried to run away from it.