“Now let’s do a tarot reading!” Marigold says, scooping up the deck from the altar. “The girl needs some guidance. Too bad Daisy isn’t here. She really knew how to read them, but maybe we can call her in.” She shuffles the cards, then places the deck in front of me. “Daisy, this girl needs our help. Now, Willow, pick a card.”

I select one from the middle and flip it over. Two of Cups. Immediately, the aunts begin nodding.

“That makes sense,” Violet says.

“Daisy strikes again!” Marigold says.

“What does it mean?” I ask, holding it up to the candlelight. The image is of two people on a beach, one is standing barely in the water, passing a cup to a person standing just past the tide.

“You need a helper,” Violet says.

I glance up at them. “A helper? Like… you guys?”

The aunts all shake their heads no. “It can’t be us. We promised your mother,” Violet says. She taps the card thoughtfully. “It looks like an equal. Is there anyone, aside from us, who you believe could help you with this quest?”

Great. Now it’s evolved to a quest.

I do my best to concentrate. “Um… My cousin Bea? She lives in France, but I talk to her nonstop—”

Violet shakes her head, then taps the card enthusiastically. “I don’t think so. Look at the image again. These people are close.”

I lean in to study the image again. One is tall, the other short, and the one in the water has dark hair. Right then, my phone chimes from my backpack, and we all flinch.

“Curses and crystals!” Poppy says. “That scared me. Who is it?”

“Probably my mom.” Ding! Ding! Ding! My mom, who is apparently sending me a hundred texts. I rifle through my bag, finally finding my phone, and tilt it up to see an unfamiliar number.

Hi Willow, I got a phone

Looking forward to tomorrow, are you good to meet at 7?

This is Mason by the way

I suck in my breath, my heart suddenly thumping.

“Who is it?” Marigold asks, craning her neck over to see.

Maybe we could meet up before?

Or adter

Aftee

AFTER

I’m really good at this

A tiny laugh chokes my throat. “It’s… a boy I met. On—” I quickly swallow the rest of the words, On the roof of Aunt Sage’s house. I don’t want to get him in trouble by telling them how we met, although I get the feeling the aunts would keep our secret. “He’s the real estate agent’s… nephew.” I don’t actually know how they’re related—nephew feels like a good guess.

“And what is the real estate agent’s nephew’s name?” asks Violet.