Emily
I didn’t really believe in fortune tellers — not until tonight. I have always heard about them in fairytales, mainly from my mother. They terrified me as a child with the cloud of fog and mist that always seemed to follow them around.
Madame Wanda smells like old incense and rose water. The darkness of the room muffled the outside world and the candlelight made everything look like it belonged to another time. I stood in the middle of the room, heart hammering too fast on the inside of my chest. The weight of her stare presses on me like I am hiding something from her and yet she can read the truth on my face as plain as day.
“You’re afraid,” she said, hands hovering over the golden tarot cards that sit on the table. Her voice is thick with an accent I can’t really seem to place.
