My hand goes to the cut on reflex. That wasn’t the question I’d been expecting, and I fumble for a response, but Anna cuts in, saving me. “Colin’s the boy from my vision.”

Concern furrows Nora’s brow, and as if sensing an oncoming lecture, Anna dumps Max onto the table and says to me, “Buffet’s this way!” before diving into the crowd.

We return from the buffet a few minutes later, me with two full plates and a rumbling stomach. Anna makes a mountain out of her food, then proceeds to make the weirdest mixture I’ve ever seen. She cuts her tri tip into tiny squares—Max snatching a piece here and there with an expert claw—and then mixes her corn and mashed potatoes together.

“I know you guys are psychics and not witches, but isn’t a black cat kind of cliché?” I ask when Max bats a fork off the table.

“I tried telling him that, but he wouldn’t listen,” she replies, scooping the corn mashed potatoes onto a biscuit. “He’s very stubborn. It runs in the family.”

I don’t question her, trying to do as she said and “embrace the weird.” So far, the weird includes a sentient house, a cat that pulls practical jokes, and a girl who can see death. What could possibly be next?

Nora suddenly presses a hand to her head, her face scrunching up in pain. Then it passes, and she lets out a sigh. “It’s about time.”

Before I can ask what she means, the crowd splits and a tall, curvy woman emerges.

“Aunt Elaine!” Anna leaps to her feet, throwing herself at the woman.

“Anna!” She catches Anna in a big bear hug. Her black hair is piled atop her head, and tattoos cover every inch of her pale arms. There’s something warm about her presence, the kind of person who just settles a room.

“You were supposed to be here at the start of the month,” Nora says as Elaine releases Anna.

“So I’m running a bit behind,” Elaine says breezily. “The weather was too good to pass up. Cold and rainy, just as I like it. Nothing beats Ireland in the fall.”

Nora makes a noncommittal noise that sounds a lot like, “I wouldn’t know.”

Anna retakes her seat and leans toward me. “Aunt Elaine’s son lives in Dublin, so she goes back and forth a lot. Nora’s usually too busy with the inn to travel.”

Elaine’s green eyes fall on me, and she blinks in surprise. “Anna, how do you know Niall and Bridget’s son?”

My fork clatters to my plate at the sound of my parents’ names. I gape at her until Anna’s voice snaps me out of my trance.