Page 90 of The Sun and the Moon

“That’s why you two were at the bank,” Moira says simply. My stomach flips over. I feel seasick.

“You knew we were both there,” Cadence says, her own voice even and steady.

“Cadence, I saw you following me. You two are not very good private eyes.”

The only sign that her words are affecting Cadence is the slight tinge of pink in her cheeks. “You let us follow you. You let us spy on you.”

“And then…” Moira takes a sip of wine.

“You gave Sydney a reading.” Cadence turns her gaze to me. There’s another sign I couldn’t see when she wasn’t looking my way. Her eyes are bright with tears she’s holding back. “You never told me what cards you pulled. But let me guess. She said you would meet your soulmate.”

Her words crash over me like thrashing waves in a rough sea.

“I was scared you’d push me away,” I say, my voice cracking.

“She really likes you, Cadence,” Dad breaks in.

“Your help isn’t helping,” I snap. He covers his lips with his knuckles.

Cadence turns back to look at Moira. “His friend has been hitting him up for money that he owes him.”

“Greg said you’ve been digging yourself out of a hole, Dad.” I don’t want to focus on this part, and not just because it sucks for me. I want to focus on Cadence—I don’t want her to slip away. But this matters to the pinky promise. I’m in this thing with her all the way. I’m not running from the pact. I’m running into it head-on.

Us against them.

Moira looks to Dad. His face is ashen, but he doesn’t look away from me. He doesn’t hide behind a broad smile or jaunty tone. He stands there, vulnerable, emotionally exposed.

He says, “I’ve been in and out of Gamblers Anonymous since I quit piloting.”

“Gamblers—” I start, incredulous. “You have a gambling problem?”

“I have it under control,” he says, and drops down to the edge of the bed.

“That’s like the addict’s mantra,” I reply, crossing my arms.

“You don’t look surprised at all,” Cadence says to Moira. I can’t tear my eyes from Dad.How did I not see this?

“Of course I’m not surprised,” Moira replies, waving her off. “Rick and I have been one hundred percent honest with each other since we met.”

“That seems to be a sliding scale,” Cadence says, and I can’t bite back the chortle. It’s an actual mindfuck, too bonkers to fathom but also genuinely humorous in a totally screwed-up way. Dad is a gambler and amateur magician; Moira is a literal psychic for money. They’re both tricksters and small-time con artists, just not to each other.

These two are perfect together.

Soulmatesandschemers.

“We have a plan,” Dad says, reaching for Moira’s hand. She happily takes it.

“I’m selling Kismet. The house and the business. Closing it down. We’re going to use the money to pay off the debts and start our next chapter together.”

“You’re selling Kismet—” Cadence is breathless. This is a blow I wasn’t expecting. Neither was she. “But that’s your whole life.”

Moira’s expression softens for the first time. “Not anymore.”

“You can’t just stop being a psychic,” Cadence says. Her voice is wrecked. Her shoulders fall, the news shaking her out of that rigid stance.

“I won’t ever stop that part. But I can close Kismet,” Moira says. The statement feels unfinished. “I had to go to the bank that day because they’re handling the closing, and they needed one lastthing before we move forward.” She hesitates. Whatever she’s about to say isn’t something she wants to share. It’s not part of her plan, but she’s doing it anyway. “Your father was a signer on the deed of the house, and I had to get him to agree to the sale.”

Her father.