“Any particular reason you’re looking for another one?” She folds her glasses back up and slips them into her shirt.

“It’s missing a card,” I tell her.

Her face brightens. She’s curious. “Which one?”

“The Moon,” Daniel says before I can.

She laughs as if she and my deck are in on a joke together.

“What’s funny?” I ask.

“It’s fitting,” she says. “The Moon is all about secrets and the subconscious. It is the dark coming into the light. It is what’s buried rising from the grave.”

Her words are ominous. “Really?”

“The dead don’t always stay down,” she suggests. “Like a lot of things we try to bury. Everything wants its day in the sun.”

I feel my arms go shivery and my shoulders crawl toward my ears as if they can hide behind them.

“I’m sure the card will turn up when it’s good and ready,” she adds.

I look at Daniel, and he gives a small shrug. “You said you’re a professional reader?” I ask her.

“Yes, it’s a passion of mine and a gift. I have over two hundred decks in my personal collection.”

It makes the rarity of mine all the more intriguing. If she hasn’t seen it before, who has?

“What would the meaning be of the Devil, the Tower, and Death in a reading together?” They are the cards that were depicted on the Halloween card Moony sent my mom, the one with the cryptic message. I know my mother’s interpretation of the last two at least—shake up plus a fresh start. But I’m curious how someone else would view them. I’m curious what Moony might have been trying to say.

Her spidery thin brows arch dramatically. “In that order?”

I nod.

“It means you’re headed off a cliff,” she says plainly, and I feel myself falling up through the dark as I did in my dream. I reach out to steady myself on a shelf.

“You okay?” Daniel asks with concern. He places a hand on my arm as if to keep me from falling.

“Yeah, just a little dizzy.” I look at the woman again. “What do you mean by that?”

“The Devil is bondage to a false truth. The Tower is the shattering of all we’ve built upon that illusory foundation. And Death is the end of one cycle that another may be born to take its place.” She folds her arms. “Usually people pay me for this.”

“Sorry.”

“You don’t read for yourself?” she asks me, eyeing my weird, little deck again.

“Oh, no. These are just…sentimental.”

She nods. “I see. Well, if you ever want to learn more, you know where to find me.”

“Yes.” I tug on Daniel’s arm. “Come on. Let’s go eat.”

“I thought you’d never ask,” he quips.