Total pages in book: 169
Estimated words: 161535 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 808(@200wpm)___ 646(@250wpm)___ 538(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 161535 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 808(@200wpm)___ 646(@250wpm)___ 538(@300wpm)
I need her to return. I need it more than anything.
I need answers.
When she walks through the door, I don’t recognize her, even though I’ve been scanning every face that enters, looking for some hint of familiarity. “Caramel latte with a double shot,” the bland woman orders. “For Lachesis.”
“Can you spell that?” asks Nicole, who’s running the register.
“I’ve got it,” I all but bark out, immediately pumping caramel into a paper cup. My hands are trembling. This is the moment I’ve been waiting for. The woman waits at the pick-up counter, but I don’t know if she looks the same as yesterday. It’s throwing me off. She’s got a strange sort of sameness to her features, as if she could be any middle-aged white woman in America.
I hand her the cup and wait.
“Thanks,” she says, raising it up in a toast, and moves to the back of the cafe.
That’s…it? That’s all I get? No other mysterious warnings? No mentions of my brother’s nosebleeds? Have I hallucinated all of it? Am I going crazy?
I blink after her, then automatically glance at the screen for the next order and start prepping a green tea latte with extra matcha. With wooden motions, I fall back into the coffee routine, my mind whirling. How did I imagine something so crazy—
“Oops!” There’s a loud splat—a sound any barista recognizes—and I immediately turn.
The woman is standing in the back of the cafe by the empty tables, dabbing at the spill with a tiny napkin. She glances over at me and gives me an expectant look.
Oh.
Oh.
“I’ll get it,” I say, snagging the mop and a roll of paper towels from the back. No one rushes to join me. Spills are no one’s favorite to clean up. I kneel beside the woman’s table and throw down paper towels. “Can I get you another coffee?”
“No, have a seat so we can talk.”
I stand, glancing over at my co-workers. There’s nothing I want more than to sit and talk to her, but I can’t afford to get fired from my best-paying job. “I really shouldn’t chat with customers while on the clock.”
“No one’s going to notice us, honey. They won’t recall this at all.” She leans back in her seat and lights a cigarette, then takes a long, slow drag. “Oh, shit, that’s good. A vape just doesn’t compare, you know?”
“You…can’t smoke in here…” But I look over at the counter and my coworkers are ignoring us as if we don’t exist. “Um…”
She points her cigarette at me. “Sit, Elsie.”
I swallow a gasp of shock. “Wha— How did you know my name?”
The woman makes a face. “It’s on your name badge.”
“Oh.” I feel stupid now.
“That, and I know everything about you.” She smiles and takes another drag on her cigarette. “I know about the boy you kissed in the closet at eight years old. I know about the thirteen tampons you flushed down the toilet in middle school even after swearing it wasn’t you when they clogged. I know about the hundred dollars you loaned to your co-worker there because he cornered you in the parking lot after hours and you felt like you didn’t have a choice.” She points her cigarette at Micah, behind the counter.
I haven’t told anyone about Micah, not just because I’m scared of him. It’s because I felt ashamed that I caved in out of fear. I’d thought I was stronger than that. “How…” I swallow hard. “Who are you?”
“Who do you think I am?”
“I’m afraid to ask.”
“Then you’re smart.” She smiles at me again. “I’m Lachesis, the middle Aspect of fate. Verdandi the Norn. Goddess of destiny. Whatever you want to call it.”
The knot in my throat feels enormous. “Why are you here? Is David…dying?”
She flicks her cigarette ashes onto the center of the table, right into the puddle I’m supposed to be cleaning. “We both know he is. The question is, what are you going to do about it?”
Her casual question unlocks something ugly inside me. “Do about it?! What more can I do? I’m working three—no, wait, four—jobs to cover the bills. I’ve all but quit college to keep us afloat. He’s still weak so cleaning the house and taking care of things falls on me. I live with him and pay for his college so he can get a medical degree, because if he’s not in school, his loans come due, and that will just make a bad situation worse. I ride a bicycle to work when he’s at school because we can’t afford a second car. And speaking of cars, it needs new tires and we’re already using the spare on the left front and it’s about to go bald. The oil should have been changed six months ago. I eat nothing but ramen seven days a week because that’s all I can afford. The apartment rent is going up and I’m somehow going to have to find a way to make an extra five hundred dollars a month, so I’m looking for yet another job—”