Page 111 of The New Couple in 5B

“I’m not sure I ever thought about whatIwanted,” she says easily, softly. There’s no resentment or anger, just an observation. “Your leaving caused them so much pain. I knew I could never do that to them.”

Guilt and resentment are like heartburn, acid up my gullet. “I had to go. I couldn’t stay there with them.”

“I know,” she says.

She reaches for my hand, and it rests cool and soft in mine for a moment.

“Your present,” she goes on, taking up the deck again and flipping out another card, “is represented by The Lovers in reverse.”

Reflexively, I check my phone. Chad is still out of contact. The sun is setting now, and the omnipresent skein of worry and fear deepens. I shouldn’t be sitting here, looking at cards with my crazy sister. I should be out there, heading upstate to find my husband and demand some answers. Yes, I decide, that’s what I’m going to do. As soon as I can get rid of Sarah.

“The Lovers means that you have a deep soul connection to someone in your life,” says Sarah. “But it also represents the relationship you have with yourself, that you are choosing who you want to be, how you want to love, your values in a way that is true to who you are.”

I hear a wailing horn in the distance, soft and mournful at this height, like the howling of a ghost.

“In reverse, it could mean that you are out of sync with yourself, the people in your life. It might mean that you are at war with yourself, that you might be punishing yourself. The Lovers in reverse suggests that you seek spiritual counsel.”

I think about this a moment and realize that it’s true. I have always warred with the teachings of my past, and the knowledge of my mind. Now, in this moment, I feel out of sync with Chad, with myself, with what I believe.

I feel so far away from my husband right now. Where is he? Who is he?

Sarah doesn’t say anything more, but lays out the future card, and we both stare.

A skeleton in dark armor rides a white horse. He carries a flag with a white rose.

Death.

“Rosie,” says Sarah. “It only means change, transition, sometimes painful but necessary. It’s about endings and new beginnings. Birth and rebirth.”

“I know what it means,” I say, too sharp.

My middle still aches with my loss; I see Dana hanging. Xavier fallen. I think about Bethany, Chad’s murdered girlfriend lying alone in the woods. Ivan in his final moments. Miles. Willa Winter.

Death is a part of life. We rail and resist, deny it. But there’s a beauty in truth, a terrible, dark beauty.

In the background of the card, a boat floats on a river, carrying souls into the afterlife. And on the horizon the sun sets between two towers to represent death and rebirth, as the sun sets each night, and rises each morning.

Sarah opens her mouth to speak, but at that moment the buzzer rings loud and long, startling us both.

I rise quickly, eager to walk away from Sarah and her cards.

“Yes, Abi.”

“Ms. Lowan, Detective Crowe is here to see you.”

I am exhausted, the weight of everything just too much for me. Can I turn him away?

“He says it’s urgent.”

“Does he have a warrant?” I ask. Already looking up Olivia’s number on the phone in my hand.

“Yes, Ms. Lowan. He does.”

There’s a dump of dread in my stomach; a shaking starts deep in my core. I fumble for Olivia’s number and call her. But it goes straight to voice mail, and I hang up. I send a quick text, and it just hangs. No pulsing dots to say she’s typing on the other end.

“Okay,” I say, sounding calmer than I feel. “Send him up.”

When he comes to the door, Detective Crowe looks grim and exhausted. He has two uniformed officers with him. A tall, lanky woman, blond hair pulled back tight, and a stocky, older man. Chests thick with their Kevlar vests, belts heavy with gun and billy club, radios squawking.