Rose sipped her tea in silence. She’d known Muriel five years. She’d grown up studying with Muriel, she wasn’t ten years old anymore. Muriel was covering up her feelings. Rose only hoped that the guy had really canceled, and that it wasn’t because Muriel had decided she wasn’t good enough for him to see and had told him not to come. She felt too gutless to ask directly. She didn’t want to hear that kind of truth.

“Doesn’t matter,” she said, trying to rise above it.

“You’ll have other opportunities.”

“It’s in the hands of the gods. Isn’t that what you always say?”

Muriel smiled. “Call it fate, Rose. But yes, I do believe that some things are just out of our hands. Perhaps there’s a good reason for this now, but you may not see the reason for a long time to come.”

“Like I’m not exactly star quality?”

“Nothing like that — you know you’re a good dancer. Try to see it as positive. This man might not be the right person in your life now. Maybe your karmas don’t match!” Muriel laughed lightly. She seemed almost relieved, making Rose wonder anew what had really happened between the two of them. Rose took another sip of tea and felt lonely. “I came down here because I couldn’t stand it at home.”

“It’s getting to you, isn’t it? That inflammatory article in the paper…. the editor should be shot.”

“He’s only doing his duty, I suppose. People have a right to know the killer sent a letter,” Rose said, sounding like Mr. Keller the history teacher.

“I’m not so sure. But that’s not what I’m talking about. I mean the other stuff about you being a psychic. That’s an invasion of privacy.”

“You think they were writing about me?” Muriel looked uncomfortable. “Your name wasn’t mentioned, but you know what this town’s like.”

It was just as Mom had predicted. “People spread rumors, but it doesn’t mean they’re true,” Rose retorted, feeling offended.

Muriel looked at her over the rim of her mug. “Mea culpa. I’m getting more like this one-horse town every day.”

Rose had never seen Muriel so jittery before. Usually she was solid as a rock, always ready to calm everybody else down. But maybe it was the recital. Muriel was always nervous at Christmastime, as preparations for the recital came to a head. Still, it was rubbing off on Rose. The visit was not turning out to be a success.

Muriel was suddenly brisk. “So, you don’t have any of these famous powers after all. What a shame. You could have told me how the baby tap class would do. According to the paper, a psychic can predict almost anything.”

“Like what?” Rose asked.