Page 100 of Starrily

Penny rolled her eyes, disappeared into the other room, and made a show of closing the door behind her.

“Penny hates incense,” Phoebe said.

“I thought you were all in the same profession?”

“Yes, but she’s a diviner. She doesn’t need it for her stuff. Me and Momma, we need to get in touch with other forces, and certain smells help us. Penny, she does the numbers.”

“She’s the scientist of the group,” Iris added.

Callie would probably have something to say about that.

“What does that mean?” Raleigh asked. He hoped he wasn’t about to get Frankenstein-ed.

“She does palm readings, tarot, figures out how well people match based on their names or birthdays or astrological signs,” Phoebe explained. “You and Callie, by the way? Nearly there.”

“Nearly where?”

“Penny did the name match and the astrological match. She even cross-checked them. Almost at a hundred percent. She says she’d never seen such high numbers before.”

“I …” Raleigh shook his head. “I don’t follow very well.”

“It means you’re good for her.” Iris lightly slapped him on the arm to get him moving toward the table. “Even if you might be a bit slow.”

“He’s not slow, Momma. He doesn’t understand our stuff.” Phoebe winked at Raleigh as she followed them to the table. “Makes sense for being a Leo.”

Raleigh sat down, and Iris gave him instructions—put his hand in the middle of the circle; close his eyes, relax, take deep breaths. He slowed his breathing, took in the incense, and tried to clear his mind.

“That’s it. Keep going,” Iris said. “Empty your mind. Relax. Your head is heavy, but there are no worries … ”

He wasn’t sure what happened—one moment, he still felt Theia rubbing against his legs, and the next, a slew of memories ran over him. It felt different from recalling, though, and different from a dream—it felt real, as if he could reach out and grab it.

“Mr. Tate?” A boy—his student—hands him a sheet of paper with drawings and signatures. “We made this for you.”

“Thanks,” Raleigh says.

The boy smiles. “You’re our favorite teacher.”

He’s cycling back home. Leans the bicycle on the wall and opens the door; a red tabby cat attempts to sneak out, but he catches it by the middle. “No, Newton. Come, it’s dinner time.”

Him and Eddie are walking out of the school, Eddie waving his arm animatedly. “And bam, home run!”

It’s dark. He’s walking home alone—tomorrow, the bike should be fixed. A cough and a cry come from the alleyway. He stops. “Hello? Are you all right?” A man appears from the shadows.

No. Not that one.Raleigh tried to shake off the memory.I don’t want to see. I don’t want to remember.

“Relax,” Iris’ voice came from far away. “Let me in. It’s gonna be all right.”

He tried to calm his breathing. One part of him was trapped in that night, panicking for his life, and the other knew it was all a thing of the past; it couldn’t hurt him now.

Give the wallet—just let me go now—pulls out a knife—wait, wait—hurts so much—that’s blood on my hands—that’smyblood—he stabbed me, he actually stabbed me—help—this can’t be it—

Raleigh took a deep breath, and the darkness of the alleyway turned into the cozily lit living room of the Guidry house.

Iris lifted her hand off his heart. “Good boy,” she said. “You’ve done mighty fine.”

He slumped on the chair. Beads of sweat had formed on his forehead, and he felt as exhausted as if he’d run a marathon. “Is it done?”

“For your part, yes.”