“Kid want a haircut?” she asked.

“We’re looking for Bev,” Jack said.

“Pedicures are two for twenty. Special today.”

“Is Bev here?”

She scowled at him. “Bev’s in the back.”

They went between the rows of salon and pedicure chairs to the back of the store, where Bev told fortunes for paying customers. Jack parted the beaded curtain’s fake gemstone strands, and they ducked through. Bev had decorated the storage room with flowery wallpaper and exotic pillows. Plush rugs that looked from faraway lands. Stage curtains hung from the rear wall, and a table draped in dark red velvet was centered upon the biggest rug. There was smoke in the air, and on the table sat a big bowl filled with loose incense. It burned on coals, to assist her divinations. Coriander, hemp, fennel. A pungent smell. Spicy, bitter. The smoke stood unmoving in the still air.

Jack’s eyes watered. Matty pinched his nose.

Bev pushed a button on her phone and put it on the table. “Come on in, kiddos. I been waitin’ for you.”

She stood in a cobalt-blue kimono and wore cat-eye glasses with diamond crystals and her hair rolled up in a high, wobbly bun. Two chopsticks poked through the mass of hair. Her lips she’d painted raspberry. “Don’t be shy,” she said. “I got cookies and tea.”

Jack looked at her and looked away. “We can’t stay.”

“Sit. I don’t bite.”

They sat at the table. A candelabra chandelier hung from a chain that had been screwed into the ceiling. It cast wavery candlelight over the room. On the table, a dainty porcelain tea set stood with lemon wedges and homemade shortbread cookies cut into heart shapes. A small old-looking mirror of blackened glass rested beside the incense bowl. Tarot cards sat ready by the tea.

“Jack, I forget—you take it with honey or milk?”

“I don’t really like tea.”

“Try mine. I get it on Amazon. You want a smoke?”

“I’m good.”

“I roll my own. No chemicals.”

“No thanks.”

“Matty, milk for you?”

He looked at Jack. “No thanks.”

She poured them cups anyway.

They hunched over the drinks and sipped. Jack didn’t favor tea, and even with the honey the rose flavor had a tart bite that wrinkled his nose. A radio somewhere played soft nature sounds.

“I got your message,” Jack said.

Bev nodded, thoughtful. On the table, her ornate phone sparkled in the candlelight. She reached for the incense bowl and blew lightly on the herbs and studied the rising smoke. A dark thread.

“We aren’t here for a reading,” Jack said. “I just want to know—”

“Hush.”

With jeweled fingers, Bev pinched fresh incense from a nearby jar and sprinkled it over the coals. She closed her eyes and blew again. Burning seeds popped and flared. A sooty flame curled up.

Silence. Raindrops fell through a forest.