“You know, you don’t have to if you don’t want to,” the fortune teller said kindly.

“Well, I--” Ophelia began.

“Oh my God, Ophelia!” a voice exclaimed, cutting her off. Ophelia turned in the direction of the voice and found Tacita rushing over, followed by Jade and Valo.

“Friends of yours?” the fortune teller asked.

“Yeah,” Ophelia replied. To Tacita, she said, “What are you doing here?”

“Shopping,” Tacia responded, grinning.

“Hopefully not in the gift shops,” Tiffani spoke up. “It’s pretty much the same stuff in most of them.”

“Of course we’re not,” Valo said indignantly. “We’ve been going to stores like that cool one on Bourbon with the dolls and cool shirts.”

“Oh,” Tiffani replied, confused.

“Oh, that one!” Ophelia exclaimed, delighted. “Did you see their cats?”

“Yeah,” Jade said. “Very friendly and fluffy.”

“We’re getting our fortunes told,” Emily informed them, grinning.

“Cool,” Valo said with a nod. “How much?”

“Free,” the fortune teller said quickly. “For you three and the teenagers.”

“Technically, Tacita is a teenager, too,” Ophelia muttered, frowning a little.

“I’m game,” Jade said with a shrug. Tacita and Valo murmured in agreement.

“Great!” the fortune teller exclaimed, clapping her hands together. “But first…” She nodded at Ophelia. “I will do your reading, and then theirs.”


Ophelia nodded in agreement, holding her hands out, much like a doctor waiting to have her gloves put on her. The fortune teller lightly touched her hands, then frowned and withdrew her touch, looking at Ophelia as though expecting a joke.

“That can’t be right,” the fortune teller muttered, taking a firmer grip of Ophelia’s hands.

“What?” Ophelia asked worriedly. “What can’t be right?”

The fortune teller shook her head and slowly withdrew her touch again. “You…” she said quietly.

“Yeah?”

“Why, after the things you know and have experienced, are you still so…”

“So, what?” Ophelia asked, confused.

“How can you continue to hold so many childlike ideals, and yet, keep a firm grip of reality?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve been treated cruelly, and you can see similar cruelty happening to other people, even when most people are unaware of it. And yet, you’re willing to stand up for people you barely know, refuse to give in to peer pressure, and haven’t become completely embittered by the society that seems to represent many of the things you are against. You even still believe, much like a young child, that miracles can happen and do happen every day. Why?”

Ophelia smiled and leaned in close to the fortune teller and replied quietly, “My mother was sick a lot when she was young, to the point where it was believed that she wouldn’t be able to have children. And then, I was born, despite all odds saying otherwise. The doctors shrugged it off as a fluke, thinking it wouldn’t happen again. And some years later, my younger brother was born. And despite all odds, we’ve been healthy and intelligent, with no defects, despite what medical professionals predicted. If that doesn’t prove to you that miracles exist, then…” Ophelia shrugged. “And as for why I believe as I do, I feel that someone has to stand up for what’s right. People who are passive and just let things happen don’t change history. I figure that since my whole life has been borrowed time, the least I can do is use some of it to help others. But I am bitter… I’m sick of people who don’t appreciate their lives, who use their lives to harm others, who…” She shook her head. “I’m sick of people who impose their will on others.”

“And, yet, you’re afraid to speak up about your own relative,” the fortune teller whispered. “Why?”

“You know exactly why,” Ophelia shot back.

“Guilt. You think you deserved what happened to you, think it’s some kind of karmic retribution for your early adolescent weakness and foolishness, despite knowing in your heart that it wasn’t one bit your fault.”

“I have no idea what they’re talking about,” Tiffani whispered.

“Same here,” AJ responded.


Ophelia stepped away from the fortune teller, eyes on the ground. The fortune teller smiled at the three newcomers. “Now, which of you will go first?”

Jade shrugged and raised her hand. “I will, I guess,” she responded. The fortune teller smiled and took her hand. After a few seconds, she began to chuckle.

“What’s so funny?” Jade asked.

“Hold on,” the fortune teller replied. She took Tacita’s hand (much to the young woman’s surprise), and began to laugh even more loudly.

“What? What’s the joke?” Tacita asked.


The fortune teller, wiping the tears from her eyes (for she had been laughing that hard), gasped out, between chuckles, “Oh my God.” To Jade, she said, “Honey, I don’t know why you’re always so cranky at your friend over there.” She nodded in Valo’s direction. “But… oh my… you and your other friend… you two have every good reason for being at each other’s throats, and yet, aren’t.” The woman choked back chuckles of mirth as she turned to Tacita. “And you… you know what a mistake that is. Tell me, is it to get at her or…?” Tacita looked away, without a response. “And a piece of advice. Stay away from wine, men, and song… those will be your downfall.” Jade frowned and eyed Tacita suspiciously, and Tacita shifted uncomfortably.

Valo chuckled softly to herself. Hearing her, the fortune teller turned to her, smiling knowingly. “You know exactly what’s going on, don’t you?” she asked. Valo nodded. “You know it… not the way you know when you’re told right out… but you know because you unconsciously pick up on these things, right?” Valo smiled in response. “Do you even want to know your future, or do you already have an idea of what will happen?”

Valo shrugged and replied, “Nothing’s ever set in stone. Even a single action can change the course of things.”

“Are you so sure of that?”

“Yes.”

The fortune teller nodded and said quietly, “Fine, then, miss. Step over here, and let me give you some news.”


“I think I know what happens after that,” Ms. Gibson said.

“Do you, now?” her grandmother asked.

“Yeah. You raised me, and when I was old enough, you shipped me off to boarding school, letting me return often enough to make sure I didn’t get brainwashed. And so on.”

“Close, but you don’t know everything, darling.”

“Yeah? Like what?”


“It was not long after I sent you to boarding school,” her grandmother said slowly. “I came home one day to find my husband tossing my books into the fireplace. I screamed at him, furious that he’d done such a thing. He said, ‘I don’t want you reading that junk to that kid. She’ll start getting ideas.’ ‘And then, what?’ I replied. ‘Are you afraid that she’ll start standing up to you as well? Are you afraid that you’ll run out of women to dominate and manipulate?’ And, let me tell you, his expression… he looked as though I’d just slapped him. ‘You know, I should have just left you knocked up, let you deal with the kid yourself! I shouldn’t have married you to keep you respectable!’ he snapped. ‘I’d have been a great deal happier, let me tell you!’ I shot back. ‘Yeah, how?’ he asked. ‘For starters, I could have married a decent man, who actually loved me and didn’t abuse me,’ I said, angry as can be. ‘Yeah, and what? Live with that damn guy you slept around with behind my back, who got you pregnant?’ he asked. ‘Yeah, you bet,’ I told him. And then, I got real close to him and said, with the fire of a thousand hells, ‘If you so much as lay a finger on that child, you’ll have to deal with me. I won’t think twice about murdering you and making it look like suicide.’ And with that said, I turned on my heel and strode out the room.”

“Wow,” Ms. Gibson muttered.

“Yeah,” Gran sighed. “It’s a shame I didn’t have that kind of backbone when I first met him, or I could have saved a lot of people a whole lot of trouble.”