Episode 2

Cassandra

Sweat glistened on my arms and chest, and I felt the sensation of it sliding down my back. My feet pounded the pavement as my favorite playlist blasted in my ears. The runner’s high had hit me a mile ago, and I felt invincible.

I needed to release these endorphins. Seeing Declan this week had not been… helpful. Fuck, I missed him—especially when he showed his softer side. I shook my head, stopping the thoughts before they could run their course. Remember why you left, Cass.

I couldn’t miss him. There was a reason I left. I needed out before things escalated. Damnit. Frustration swelled in my chest, and I sped up, using it to push myself harder, to reach my goal. But the video loop of memories played on, like a sick psychological experiment designed to induce intense emotional responses.

“Declan, I can’t take this anymore!” I shouted, slinging my duffle bag of clothes over my shoulder.

“To hell you’re leaving!” Declan spat. His face flushed red, and that familiar vein in his forehead pulsed dangerously. I knew I needed to leave quickly before this escalated.

“Move, please,” I said calmly, trying to keep some semblance of control over my emotions.

He leaned in close, his breath hot on my face, and whispered, “Make me.” It was a threat—a challenge. He was losing control, teetering on the edge. Fuck.

“Declan McCalister, you let that girl leave this instant.”

Abigail’s stern Irish accent echoed through the room. Seconds later, she appeared, rounding the corner with her commanding presence. I turned slightly, keeping one eye on Declan and the other on my savior.

“How dare you speak to this woman with such disrespect,” she scolded, her glare cutting into him like a blade.

Declan straightened slightly, his anger simmering but less overt now. “Mother, I—”

She cut him off, her tone unwavering. “Your father and I taught you better. Now move.”

He glanced at me, then at his mother, and finally huffed in annoyance. Reluctantly, he stepped aside—just enough for me to barely squeeze through the door. My shoulder brushed his as I passed, and he grabbed my wrist. His grip was tight but not painful—a silent plea to make me look at him one last time.

“Where are you going?” he whispered, his voice raw.

I scanned his face, seeing the pain in his ice-blue eyes. It took everything in me not to falter. “I’m renting an apartment on neutral turf. I’m sure you’ll find me,” I said flatly, trying to hold back the emotion twisting my heart, shredding it into pieces. It felt like someone had thrown it in a blender to make a fucking margarita out of it.

His grip loosened, and his hand fell to his side. I turned and walked quickly, forcing each footstep forward. Amish opened the door to the black car waiting outside, and I slid in. Only when the door shut and I was shielded from view did I let the tears fall.

He loved me. And I still… No, Cassie, stop. I clenched my fists as I ran, pushing harder, as though I could leave all of it behind.

Why couldn’t I let him go? Even after everything he did.

My favorite coffee shop across from Oz Park came into view, and I sprinted the last few feet, channeling every ache, every frustration, every ugly, cry-filled night into the run.

The smell of freshly brewed coffee mingled with the earthy scent of summer as I thudded to a stop. Lifting my wrist, I pressed two fingers to my pulse point on my neck and glanced at my watch. Nice.

Leo

Oh mio dio, this woman could run.

Gio parked the black sedan close enough for me to see her. I watched her chest rise and fall as she caught her breath, the sweat trickling down her neck and disappearing between her breasts.

In my spare time, I had taken to memorizing Cassandra’s routine. This run was one of her regular routes, but even I knew this was a record time. I smirked at the irony—my little topo running while I stalked her like a feline predator.

Gio’s voice broke through my thoughts. “Boss, do you want to keep watching her, or should we head back to the estate?”

Clenching my fists, I growled, “We’ll leave when I’m ready. Just shut your mouth and mind your business.”

Fuck—I lost her. I scanned the crowded café through the blacked-out windows until I spotted her, gripping a coffee cup and heading toward Oz Park. Her usual routine. I loved how predictable her patterns were, but her mind—that was what kept me interested.

“Alright, Gio, let’s head back now. But I want someone tailing her for the rest of the day,” I ordered.

“Anything specific you’re looking for?”

“Just… observe. See if anything out of the ordinary happens,” I said, my voice trailing off as I watched her sit at her usual bench.

The briefing earlier this had brought me news about her visit from Declan McCalister—the Irish prince himself. The information made me see red. After composing myself, I decided I’d keep eyes on her and everyone who thought they had a claim on her.

Cassandra 

I had noticed the black sedan tailing me today and for the past week. The only problem was that I didn’t know if it was Irish or Italian. Either way, it was bad news.

After sitting in the park for thirty minutes, people-watching and enjoying my victory coffee—a hot cappuccino—I walked back to my apartment.

As I rounded the corner, two familiar faces stood at my building’s entrance. I smirked as I approached.

“Amish. Bran.” I acknowledged, dipping my chin.

The two men, usually stoic and cold, always seemed to soften a little around me.

“Cassie, it’s good to see you again,” Amish said, his deep Irish voice vibrating in my chest. It was oddly comforting. Bran offered me a small smile, ever the quiet one.

“Likewise,” I said, my gaze flicking between them. “I’m assuming you’re both here on orders?” I didn’t need confirmation; I knew Declan had sent them. Just knowing he was having me watched again made my heart ache.

Amish gave me a guilty smile. “Yeah, sorry, darlin’. You know how he can be.”

I ran a hand through my hair, brushing back the loose strands tickling my forehead, and sighed. “You guys want any coffee or something to eat before your long night?” I gestured toward the door.

Amish and Bran interacted with me the most while Declan and I were together. They knew everything that happened between the two of us—everything, all the way up to the last night I stayed at the McCalister household. Amish had let me sob the entire car ride to my new complex, even going as far as to help me carry my duffle bag inside. I had spent a whole year with them, and I cared for them more than they would ever know.

Amish gave me a guilty look that said I’m sorry about all this. “Thanks, Cassie,” he said softly.

Bran just offered me an apologetic but grateful smile.

“Anytime,” I replied, patting both men on the shoulders before guiding them up to my apartment. The two colossal men followed me up the three flights of stairs in silence.

I opened the door and gestured for them to sit. Thirty minutes later the whole apartment smelled of steak, potatoes, and sautéed greens.

I placed their plates in front of them and their half empty coffee cups.

“Cassie, you’ve done too much,” Amish said in a warm tone, his protest softened by his gratitude.

Bran dug in immediately, flashing me a smile of appreciation as he chewed.

“Just eat. You’ve got a long night ahead of you,” I said playfully.

I sat down with my own plate, and we ate quietly. Every now and then, Bran groaned with satisfaction, making me giggle softly.

Having dinner with the two of them filled me with a strange sense of comfort and familiarity. It reminded me of a time when I felt at home at the McCalister estate. I cut another piece of steak, my thoughts swirling. I don’t think I’ll ever feel that way again.

Leo

“FUCK!” I slammed my fists onto my desk. The Mick bastards were getting in my way.

Gio had informed me that Cassandra let those two Irish pieces of shit into her home last night. I needed to know more—details, connections—how deep she’s entrenched.

“Gio!” I barked.

He entered immediately, as though he had been waiting just outside. I glared at him, my fury barely contained.

Through gritted teeth, I said, “I want you to look into Cassandra’s relationship with the Irish prince.” My jaw ached from the tension I had been holding all week over this woman.

“Yes, Boss,” Gio said quickly before turning and exiting.

The door clicked shut, leaving me alone in my growing frustration. I turned and strode to the window overlooking the garden of my estate. Dragging a hand through my disheveled dark brown hair, I gripped the ends tightly.

I had never felt such a need to own someone before. And this nagging feeling—that I needed to kill every man who had ever spoken to her—was relentless. My hands shoved aggressively into my pockets as I paced.

Moments later, Gio returned, his steps smooth and deliberate. He carried a folder, clutching it tightly like the soldier he was.

“This is everything I could gather, Boss.” He handed me the folder and waited.

Still standing in front of the window, I opened it and flipped through the papers.

“Dated Declan for a year, lived at the McCalister estate for six months… still friendly with the Irish mob… left three months ago,” I read aloud. I flipped to a series of photos pulled from various sources—her, smiling, walking, with people I recognized from the Irish mafia. My chest burned with something I refused to name.

I strode to the fireplace and tossed the folder into the unlit grate. Then, with a flick of the switch, flames erupted, consuming the pages. The photos crumpled and turned to ash, black and flaky.

Gio stood silently nearby, a loyal shadow.

“I want you to send la mia bellezza a bottle of Italy’s best wine and two dozen roses tonight after her shift. Make sure she knows it’s from me,” I said, forcing my voice to sound calm.

“You got it.” Gio pulled out his phone and began typing, making the arrangements.

I turned back to the flames, watching the last of the photos disappear into embers.

I’m going to win this game… one way or another.

Cassandra

Another flawless shift tonight. I told myself that, feeling confident as I headed back to the dressing room to change and head home for the evening.

The other girls were already at their stations, counting money and peeling off glittery costumes. The room smelled of dollar bills, sweet perfume, and… roses?

“You got a delivery just a minute ago, Angel,” Candy called out.

I walked quickly to my station and stopped short. Two dozen red roses sat in a vase beside a bottle of Giacomo Conterno Monfortino. I knew that wine—it was expensive, and far too fancy for this setting. My eyes narrowed as I reached for the card nestled in the bouquet.

The paper felt heavy in my hands as I opened it.

“Thinking of you, principessa – L.”

Leo. Of course.

I sighed, setting the card down. The roses were beautiful, and the wine was tempting, but I couldn’t accept them. Not from him.

“Here, Candy.” I grabbed the flowers and bottle, passing them to her. “These were meant for you.”

Candy’s face lit up, her grin so wide I could see all her teeth. “See, ladies!” she said loudly, strutting around with the roses like a trophy. “When you look like me and work as hard as I do, the men start eating out of the palm of your hand.”

The other girls groaned, annoyed but not surprised by her arrogance. It was Candy, after all.

I let myself chuckle softly as I grabbed my bag and headed home.

At my apartment, I kicked off my tennis shoes and flopped onto the outdated sofa, propping my feet on the coffee table. My gaze fell on the ashtray still filled with Declan’s cigarette ash from when he visited.

I groaned, covering my eyes with the crook of my arm.

Two minutes later, the intercom buzzed, jolting me upright. I stared at it, scowling. “A visitor? This late?” I muttered. I dragged myself over and pressed the button. “Hello?”

A familiar voice came through, warm and rough with age. “Is that any way to greet your favorite auld fella?” he chuckled.

My heart stopped. “Oh my God—Finnigan?” I pressed the buzzer immediately. “Come up!”

When the knock sounded, I flung the door open. “Finnigan!”

My face broke into a genuine smile as I took in his thin but sturdy frame. Finnigan McCalister might have been the leader of the Irish mob, but to me, he was the kindest man I knew—like a father.

“Cassie, my sweet lass.” He pulled me into a strong hug. Amish and Bran stood behind him, watchful as always. I smiled at them over Finnigan’s shoulder.

When we pulled back, I held his shoulders, peering into his ice-blue eyes that mirrored Declan’s. The weathered lines on his face radiated quiet strength and warmth. “I’ve missed you so much,” I said, my voice catching.

Finnigan cupped my cheek. “None of that, lass,” he said gently.

I nodded and stepped aside to let the three of them in. “Make yourselves comfortable.”

I busied myself in the kitchen, making coffee. When I returned with three steaming cups, Finnigan had already settled at the dining table. I sat carefully beside him, my smile unwavering.

“To what do I owe this surprise visit?” I asked.

Finnigan set his cup down with a soft thud, his warm eyes darkening to something more serious. “Well, Cassie, my dear, Declan informed me about your little situation with Leonardo Romano.” His gaze lingered on my face, searching for any hint of deception.

I sighed, rubbing my temples. “Yeah, it’s complicated…”

“Ye need to be careful, my lass. Romano’s not a man to be trifled with. He’s got a reputation… a violent one.” Finnigan leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “He doesn't take kindly to refusals, especially when he thinks he owns something.”

My eyes hardened slightly, but I kept my voice calm and cool. “Nobody owns me. Not Declan. Not Leo. Not anyone.”

His eyes softened again with a knowing look. “Ye were always a resilient one.” He reached for my hand, squeezing it reassuringly. “I know you and Declan had a falling out, but just know we miss you.”

My back stiffened slightly, though I didn’t pull away. The gesture grounded me, even as my thoughts stirred. Amish and Bran exchanged a wary glance; only they knew the full extent of what had happened between Declan and me.

“I know…” My smile faltered into a sad frown. “But Declan and I can’t be together anymore.”

Finnigan nodded, his expression understanding but heavy. “I understand. As broken up as he is, you were always too good for him.” A playful smirk tugged at his lips.

I mirrored his expression. “And you are too good to be a mob leader.”

He let out a loud, rumbling laugh, the comforting sound echoing off the apartment walls. “Maybe so, but I am regardless.”

He stood, and the rest of us followed suit. I walked him to the door, Amish and Bran flanking us protectively. Finnigan turned to me one last time, his voice low, soft, and affectionate. “Cassie… ye will always have my protection. You’re like a second daughter to me.”

“Fuck, Finnigan,” I rasped, my eyes stinging as tears threatened to fall. I hugged him tightly, holding onto him as if he could keep me safe from everything swirling in my life. “Thank you for checking on me. I love you.”

Finnigan hugged me back, his strong hands steady. He whispered softly, “Tá mo chroí istigh ionat, my heart is inside you, my lass.”

When he pulled away, he brushed a stray tear from my cheek. “I’ll be seeing ye.”

With that, he left, Amish and Bran following him silently. I closed the door and stood there for a long moment, the weight of his words settling over me.

Leo

“Boss, Finnigan stopped by Cassandra’s apartment last night,” Gio informed me as we drove toward our next meeting in town.

I sat in the back seat, staring out the window. Chicago pulsed with life outside—the rhythm of the city an ever-present thrum. My thumb tapped restlessly against my knee as I considered Gio’s words.

“Keep watching her,” I said finally, my voice low and measured. “If the King of the Irish is visiting her personally, that must mean she’s more important to them than we originally thought.”

Gio nodded, glancing at me in the rearview mirror. “Anything else you want done, Boss?”

I pulled out my phone and typed out a message to my men. Let me know the next time she ends up on Italian turf… alone. I slid the device back into my pocket, my smirk curling wickedly.

Between Declan, Finnigan, and those two goons standing outside her building, they were making it far too difficult for me to win.

I leaned back into the seat, my fingers steepled as I let the thoughts turn over in my mind. “I’ll just have to start playing dirty,” I muttered to myself, the words hanging like a promise in the air.

The mere thought of getting Cassandra alone—truly alone—lit something dangerous inside me. Fireworks ignited low in my groin as I pictured her face, her eyes defiant, and her body close enough to touch.

Fuck. She had a deeper hold on me than I had anticipated.

I shifted uncomfortably, adjusting myself in my seat. This last week had been fun—like hunting prey—but I was growing tired of waiting. My restlessness to pounce was becoming impossible to ignore.

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Chapter 1 Sierra

Chapter 1

Sierra

My connection to the Gods felt like the only thing I could grasp onto for inner strength. Seventeen years had gone by, and still it felt like a lingering ghost was haunting me—stifling and spine-chilling. I took a deep, steadying inhale through my nose as I performed my daily routine, trying to focus on the scent of coffee and the crisp autumn breeze.

Not here, not now, I told myself. This is your peace.

But the serenity was shattered as easily as the stillness of the morning.

A piercing cry split the air, slicing through the bubble I’d created. Startled, I jolted to my feet, spilling hot coffee onto my clothes. My heart pounded against my ribs as I recognized Maddie’s scream, a sound that twisted my gut into a knot. Without a second thought, I darted through the apartment to get to her. Please, Gods, let her be okay.

In my haste, my foot collided with the solid golden leg of our Victorian coffee table, pain shooting through my toe. “Fuck!” I yelped, hopping on one foot before resuming my dash. I didn’t have time to care about the pain. All I could think about was Maddie—of getting to her.

When I finally burst into Maddie’s room, panting heavily, I was met with mind-boggling chaos. Neon lights from her computer gaming equipment were flashing wildly, while the thudding bass of a Billie Eilish song played in the background. A huge mass of tangled cables caught my eye; it resembled a raging spaghetti monster, consuming all it could beneath her desk. But despite the mayhem, Maddie was… dancing?

Her caramel-colored complexion was flushed with pure joy. She was excitedly jumping up and down on her bed, her oversized t-shirt and shorts flapping comically with each leap. Her brown hair was totally disheveled as it flew around her head, and she was waving her phone excitedly in the air. “Sierra, you won’t believe this!” she squealed, thrusting her phone toward me like it held the secret to immortality.

My heart still pounded in my chest, but relief swept through me. She was fine. She wasn’t in danger. Not today.

“What the hell, Maddie?” I gasped, clutching my side as I tried to catch my breath. “You scared the shit out of me.”

Maddie bounded off the bed to hand me her phone. “Look! Look! It’s The Immortals! They’re holding a contest! And we can enter!” I stared at the screen. A video on her phone played an announcement from our favorite band. My mind struggled to focus on the flashing images, but one thing was clear: the contest was a chance to meet them at Legends Fest.

A week-long festival. In the Carlsbad Caverns. Where the Fae and mortal worlds merged to celebrate our realms coming together for 150 years now.

It was a dream come true. Maddie and I had been dying to go for years, but tickets always sold out within minutes. The idea of actually winning… it made my heart leap. I could already picture it: the deep thrum of music vibrating through my body, the wild energy of the Fae realm seeping into the night, and him. Ronan—the band’s lead singer—whose piercing gaze seemed to see straight through to your soul.

Maddie continued to dance and cheer beside me as I watched the video. “Sierra, this is it! Our chance to meet them! Can you imagine?” she exclaimed, her voice brimming with excitement.

“Maybe we’ll get to hook up with one of them!” she squealed. The idea thrilled me, imagining what I’d do to Ronan. And yet, as much as the thought excited me, a familiar weight settled in my chest. Fear. It gnawed at me, dragging me back into the shadows of my past—the one I’d been running from for years. The past that could find me again with the push of a single button.

Maddie, catching her breath, turned to me with an eager smile. “Sierra, we’ve got to use HitUp to enter this contest! It’ll double our chances of winning!”

My smile faltered as I handed Maddie’s phone back. “I… I don’t know, Maddie.”

Her face fell, her excitement dampened by the hesitation in my voice. “What do you mean? It’s The Immortals, Sierra!”

She was right. It was everything we’d ever wanted. But the fear gnawed at me. 

“You know I don’t do social media. What if…”

What if they found me again?

Maddie’s face softened. She knew. She didn’t know everything about my past—about the betrayal, the trauma, or the darkness I’d escaped—but she knew enough to understand my reluctance. Still, her eyes pleaded with me.

“I get it, Sierra. I really do. But just this once… can’t you give it a try? For me? I’ve respected your decision all these years, but this—this is different. This is a once-in-a-lifetime chance.”

I chewed on my bottom lip, anxiety gnawing at my insides. My mind was a battlefield between desire and dread. I peered up at Maddie once more, a mixture of yearning and elation etched on her face.

After contemplating this rare opportunity to experience something so incredible with her, I was almost tempted to relent. But I couldn’t.

“I’m sorry, Maddie, I seriously can’t—I have my reasons,” I whispered, hating the way the words tasted. “Maybe you’ll be able to win on your own.” Disappointment flickered across her face, and I hated that this old experience was controlling my entire life, but I wasn’t sure if I was brave enough to face it just yet.

The weight of it all followed me out of her room, clinging to me like the chill in the air. As I changed into a clean shirt and grabbed my things for work, regret gnawed at me. I couldn’t shake the feeling that I’d just missed out on something that could have changed everything.

I left the apartment, each step down the stairs echoing with the ghosts of what I was running from. By the time I reached the sidewalk, my mind had already drifted back to memories I’d fought so hard to bury. Images of those dark days flashed through my mind, but I shoved them down, locking them away like I always did.

Not today.

At Oracle’s Alcove, the psychic shop where I worked, I found solace in the quiet atmosphere and the comforting scent of incense. It was a place where I could tap into my own spiritual connection and offer clarity to others even when my own life felt like a tangled web of the unknown. Today, however, I found my mind wandering back to the way Maddie had looked when I told her I couldn’t participate.

“Sierra, is everything okay?” my coworker Lily asked, her red bangs casting shadows over her blue-grey eyes. She had a knowing look, one that always made me feel like she saw right through my defenses.

I sighed, setting down the cards I was mindlessly fiddling with. “It’s… complicated.”

Lily waited patiently as I explained the contest, the opportunity, and the fear that held me back. I left out the details of my past, of course. Even Lily didn’t know the full extent of what I’d been through.

“Sierra,” she said softly when I finished. “Sometimes our past holds us back, but it’s also a part of what makes us strong. Facing our fears could be the step to healing. If you truly want to meet The Immortals, maybe this is a chance to confront your past and embrace the future,” she advised.

I looked at the time on my phone. My first appointment would be here any minute, and I needed to get centered if I wanted to give this reading my all. I walked back to my room and started setting up, hoping my mind would settle before they arrived.

Moments later, the door chimed, and Lily greeted someone. A muffled conversation ensued, indicating that I should come out and be seen. When Lily spotted me, she smiled and introduced me warmly, “Ah, here she is.” Lily gestured. “Sierra, this is Tanya. Tanya, this is Sierra. She’s your first appointment.”

I summoned a broad smile, willing it to convey warmth despite the strange feeling of unease I was experiencing from this morning’s chaos. Tanya gave me a wary wave. “Hi.”

I gestured casually, “Hey, Tanya, you ready?” Tanya dipped her chin, her shoulders tense with nervous energy as she followed me through the beaded curtain into the back room. The soft clink of the beads against one another sounded like distant wind chimes, ushering us into a space that felt quieter, more intimate. The air was thick with the earthy scent of sandalwood and jasmine, mixed with a hint of sage from the morning cleansing ritual.

I sat down at my reading table, the worn edges of the dark wood smooth beneath my fingertips, covered with a deep purple tablecloth that shimmered. A soft, amber light flickered from the array of candles around the room, casting dancing shadows on the walls, making the space feel cocooned from the outside world.

My Tarot deck, spread neatly in front of me, glinted faintly as the firelight caught the gold accents on the cards—each one adorned with a mythical creature from another realm, as if they held the secrets of worlds just out of reach.

I noticed Tanya’s hesitant glances, her eyes darting between the mystical symbols hanging on the walls and the delicate strands of crystals swaying gently overhead, their soft clinking adding to the low hum of the space.

Gently, I asked, “Would you like to take a seat?” I nodded toward the empty wooden chair across from me. The wood was slightly worn, and as Tanya sat down, the chair let out a soft creak, the sound almost swallowed by the thick quiet of the room.

She smiled tentatively, her lips barely curving upward, and shifted in her seat. “Let’s start with any questions you may have for me,” I said, my voice a little tighter than I wanted it to be. I swallowed, the lump in my throat thick and persistent. “They can be about me and my process, or a particular question you would like answered through the deck.” Her fingers twisted anxiously around each other in her lap, and I could hear the faint rustle of her clothes as she shifted nervously.

“You don’t have to worry,” I reassured her, my voice softening. “Anything said here is confidential and meant only to guide you. The answers I give today aren’t set in stone. They can change depending on the path you choose tomorrow.” Her shoulders dropped slightly, the tension easing just enough to let out a long breath. Seeing her relax made me feel steadier, too.

Meekly, she confessed, “Well, I came here because I have a crush on a boy at my school.” She glanced down, her cheeks reddening, her voice barely above a whisper. “And, well, I was hoping to find out if we’ll end up together.”

I smiled softly, recognizing that innocent hope. The memory of my own school girl crushes flickered to life in the back of my mind, and for a second, I felt that familiar, bittersweet tug. But I quickly pushed it away, not wanting to follow that thread of thought too far.

“I can’t tell you many details,” I said gently. “But what I can tell you will help provide more clarity about the path you’re currently on.” Her face lit up, her eyes bright with expectation, and I couldn’t help but smile back. “Can you tell me his name and what he looks like?” I asked, readying the cards in my hands.

Tanya leaned in a little, her voice quickening with excitement. “His name is Aaron. He’s got dark hair, blue eyes, and he’s really tall. I just… I know we’re meant to be together,” she said, her voice full of a kind of certainty only young love can bring.

I nodded, the cards cool and smooth beneath my fingers. The room grew still, the soft crackle of the candles the only sound. I focused on her question, letting the energy settle around me.

I started pulling the cards, one by one, drawn to the ones that felt right. Most were positive, and I could see her excitement building with each one. But then, I pulled the last card—the Ten of Swords. The image on the card, stark and final, sent a chill through me. I kept my face as neutral as possible. “This last card suggests that things may not end well,” I said gently, not wanting to alarm her.

Her reaction was immediate. Panic flared in her eyes, and her voice shot up, trembling. “What! What does that mean?”

“May I look at your palm?” I asked, hoping to offer her something more. She nodded, stiff and wide-eyed, and pulled her hand from beneath the table. Her fingers were cold and slightly damp against mine, which wasn’t surprising given her fluctuating emotional state and blood-hued aura.

Holding her hand, I closed my eyes, focusing. My intuition had always been strong, an ability I’d had for as long as I could remember—seeing things, sensing things others couldn’t. It was a gift, one I’d learned to embrace, though not everyone understood. Today, I could feel I was in tune. The image came into focus, sharp and unsettling.

I saw a vision of her and Aaron arguing. She was angrily shoving a phone in his face. Then, the foresight shifted to a visualization of a particular text message and the name of the texter. I opened my eyes to see her sitting on the edge of her seat.

“Did you see anything?” she asked eagerly, her leg shaking with anticipation.

I nodded hesitantly. “Yes, but if I tell you, it will be upsetting. Would you still like to hear it?”

Immediately, she insisted, “Yes! Duh! I need to know! This is my future you’re predicting!”

Ignoring her rudeness, I checked once more. “Are you absolutely sure? If I tell you, just know that I am only a messenger, and the things I say are suggestive.”

“YES! Tell me!”

I nodded and started to describe what I saw. Just when I was about to get to the name, a chill ran down my spine. Something held me back, and I decided to withhold the name.

She pressed me, “Are you sure you didn’t see her name or what she looks like?”

I shook my head. “No, I didn’t.”

Her eyes flashed with frustration. “Great! I thought you were fortune tellers, not doomsday witches!” she snapped, standing abruptly. I winced at the hurtful words she flung at me. She spun on her heels, her blonde hair whipping around her head as she stomped out, leaving a cold presence lingering in her now-empty chair. My heart raced from the intensity of the encounter. I closed my eyes, taking deep, measured breaths to steady myself.

Lily walked in and sat in the now-empty chair. “You okay?” she asked softly, her eyes laced with concern. The sound of the beaded curtain still softly swayed in the background, the only evidence of Tanya’s presence.

I looked at her defeatedly and sighed. “Yeah, she just wasn’t happy with how the reading unfolded.” My intuition screamed at me that this day’s negative energy hadn’t finished with me yet.

That evening, when I returned home, the weight of the day clung to me like a second skin. The familiar eggplant walls and random décor of our apartment allowed me to sigh out some of the stress I was holding onto. I dropped my bag on the kitchen counter, running my fingers through my tangled hair before talking to Maddie. She lounged on our black velvet couch, her headphones on while she animatedly scrolled through her phone. Her brown eyes met mine as I walked up to her, and for a moment, I couldn’t read her expression. Was she still upset?

“Maddie?” I said softly.

She pulled her headphones off and gave me a weak smile. “Hey. You okay?”

“I’m sorry about earlier,” I started, rubbing my hands together nervously. “I know I let you down.”

She shook her head quickly, her messy bun wobbling with the movement. “No, Sierra. You didn’t let me down. I know why you’re hesitant. I just—” She paused, chewing on her lip like she was trying to find the right words. “I just want you to live, you know? You’re always hiding.”

Her words stung because they were true. I was always hiding—from my past, from my fear, from the world.

“I know,” I whispered. “And I hate it. I hate that I can’t just be… normal.” I eventually joined her on the couch, curling my legs beneath me.

“You are normal, Sierra,” Maddie said, her voice gentle but firm. “You just need to trust that not everything is going to hurt you.” She sighed, sitting up and folding her legs beneath her. “I don’t want you to miss out on things that could make you happy.”

Her words hit harder than I expected, and my chest tightened with the realization that she was right. How many things had I missed out on because I was too scared? How many opportunities had slipped through my fingers because I couldn’t let go of the past?

I wavered for a moment, my emotions raging within me. Finally, I made a decision. I swallowed hard. “Okay, Maddie, I’ll do it. I can’t let my nerves control my life forever. Let’s enter the contest together!” I declared, my gut feeling uneasy at the decision.

Maddie’s joy was contagious. “Oh my God, Sierra! You won’t regret this, I promise.”

What if I do regret this?

But I pushed the thought aside. I couldn’t keep running forever.

Maddie snuggled up next to me, and my worry slowly melted away, replaced by a sense of empowerment. Perhaps this was the beginning of a new chapter in my life, a chance to face my past and embrace the future. I waited apprehensively as the app downloaded on my phone.

When I finally opened it and my finger hovered over the “Create Profile” button, Maddie placed a hand on my phone. She said entreatingly, “Sierra, please don’t be upset.” My stomach knotted as I waited for her to continue. “I made a HitUp profile for you when you left for work today.” She winced, bracing herself for my inevitable reaction.

Hurt flooded me, a bitter taste rising in my throat as I pulled back and stared at Maddie. “Maddie, how could you?” I demanded, my voice tinged with betrayal.

“Sierra, I’m so sorry,” she pleaded. “I just wanted us to have the best shot at this opportunity.” I had nothing left to say with this storm of familiar hurt bearing its ugly head.

Seething, I stormed to my room and slammed the door shut. Pacing, I flung my phone down on the bed. Long-buried feelings of betrayal consumed my thoughts. I flopped face-down onto the black comforter, screaming with frustration and punching my pillow angrily.

Eventually, I calmed down and realized this wasn’t the same situation as before. I could trust Maddie because, in the end, I knew her intentions were pure. With a shaky breath, I reached for my phone.

Curiosity and the allure of the possibilities HitUp might offer tugged at my resolve. My hands trembled as I entered the passcode Maddie had texted me. I began checking out the profile she created, apprehensive about what I might see. The bio was spot-on, and I realized just how well Maddie knew me. Even the picture she chose was perfect. It was from our trip to the Salem Haunted Happenings Festival on Halloween, one of our best vacations. In the photo, I was posing in my Janis Joplin costume and flowered beanie, flashing peace signs. Special memories like this made it hard to stay mad at Maddie.

As I plugged my phone into its charger for the night and rolled to my side, my thoughts wandered to the possibilities this new chapter might bring. A complex blend of fantasies and dread swirled around in my head, but for the first time in a long time, I felt ready to step out of my comfort zone and see what the universe had in store for me.