It’s a noble effort on Cleo’s part, but not a single one of our searches on the drive here turned up anything useful. It’s like Carson Perilli never existed, at least according to the internet. A follow-up call to my parents proved equally unhelpful—Mom had never heard Grandma mention anyone by that name.

I shuffle the cards, anticipation crackling in my limbs. How on earth did Grandma come to possess this deck? I suppose it’s possible she really didn’t realize its true origins, but if I know Grandma, she probably had some inclination it was special. My heart aches once again, thinking about how much I wish she were here. I try to choose another thought instead, like how lucky I am to have this chance to learn more about her, even after she’s gone.

Before I start on Logan, I remind myself of the most important thing Grandma ever taught us about reading the tarot. I can almost hear her voice in my head, speaking these foundational words: Tarot cards have nothing to do with predicting the future. The tarot’s true power resides in using ancient symbols, drawn from every corner of history and mythology, to unlock the secrets we keep from ourselves. You see, a chance drawing of cards is meaningful not in what the symbols predict, but in the personal reflections you find in them.

As I prepare myself to read, I try to clear my mind of everything else, ready to become reflective. Then, for good measure, I run my fingers over the engraved surface of the Dalet locket in my pocket.

“Okay, Logan, what intention do you want to set for this reading?”

“That’s easy, my dear Amelia. How do we follow the clues to find the closest missing card?”

“I couldn’t have said it better myself,” I answer, handing Logan the shuffled deck to cut. While waiting, I decide what reading configuration to use, since the placements can change the interpretations of each card dramatically. For this reading, I quickly realize I should use Grandma’s favorite: The Seeing Square.

Logan hands me back the deck and I lay out the top four cards face down on the cloth. We are faced with the same symbol on the card backs: a unique geometric shape that looks like a Hebrew letter Mem connected to an inverted number four. Seeing it now, the shape is unmistakably an altered letter P—which, I now realize, must stand for Perilli. My heart then skips another beat once the cards are dealt, because one of our homemade replacement cards has appeared in fourth position. A chill runs up my spine, seeing a representation of one of the four missing cards turning up in the final placement.

Shaking this off, I reach out to begin.

“The card in first position represents your current situation, the place you begin to achieve your goal,” I explain, flipping over the first card.