ON THE boardwalk I stopped in front of a funnel cake stand, the air full of sugar and heat. I took Clara’s card from my wallet, studied its little misshaped crescent moons, its off-center, faux-gothic text. Why was I feeling so nervous? After all, she was the one who had stolen from me, the one who had done wrong. I crossed the boardwalk to look at the ocean, hoping it would soothe me. There were birds diving out past where the waves broke—my father taught me that meant fish nearby. Sometimes I still tricked myself into thinking he was along the shore, casting a line out into the sea.

In the dunes, the feral cats hissed at one another, prowled through the sand for scraps like desert animals, their fur missing in patches and their whiskers bent from fighting with one another. If this whole town was blasted to bits, the feral cats would outlast us all. They’d go on pawing for scraps among the crackle of dying neon and broken bits of poker chips. The city had tried to spay them, put them in shelters, but it seemed that there were more of them than ever before, their mean, pale green eyes catching mine for a second before they slunk behind a patch of grass.

Clara’s shop was wedged between a store offering cash for gold, trays of pawned rings glinting dully in the window, and a soft pretzel shop, which smelled like starch and salt. There was a chalkboard sign out front of Clara’s. Summer Special, Readings $5. Emily was right—at only five bucks a reading Clara and Des probably needed another hustle in order to eat.

A gold decal of the evil eye stared out at me from the window, which was draped with heavy damask curtains tied with tasseled ropes. The door was propped open, and another cat sat in front of it, licking its paws. I pushed through a tangle of beaded curtains and into the shop, which reeked of incense, the smoke sweet and thick. Along the closest wall, an old jewelry case held crystals and gems, pyrite and amethyst, hunks of quartz, and a pile of polished tourmaline. The glass shelves were grayed with dust. I looked up for cameras—a habit now—and didn’t see any. A leak had spread a urine-colored stain along the ceiling.

“Ah. I knew you’d come.” I turned and saw that Clara had stepped into a room through a door in the back of the shop.

“I just want my bracelet back.”

“What bracelet?” Clara blinked at me.

“Oh, come on. The one you snatched the other day at the spa. Look, I really don’t have time for this, I need to see this phone guy before he closes.” I held out my cracked phone like evidence.