Page 5 of Death and Do-Overs

I unsnapped the snaps. I unzipped the zipper.

My wallet was missing, and a pang of stress and confusion struck me like lightning. I snatched the wallet from his hand and opened it, only to find my license, my cards, and my cash. It was in fact my wallet, and from a quick look, everything that should be there still appeared to be there.

The appropriate response now was to thank him.

Suspicion kept me silent.

I’d only taken my wallet out once since arriving at the market, at the popcorn stand. I distinctly remembered putting it away after. And, if somehow I was mistaken about that, and Mr. Eyes happened to find it on the ground, why had it taken him so long to hand it over?

He flashed a cocky grin at me.

A beeping sound pierced my train of thought.

My alarm was going off in my pocket.

“This has been interesting, but it’s time for me to go,” I said.

Part of me was relieved. The other part wasn’t. The other part was riled and amped up for confrontation or…no, theordidn’t matter.

“See you at the next supermoon,” Mr. Eyes said.

I shrugged like I didn’t care.

Then I headed to my car, feeling his light-stealing eyes follow me as I went.

Had he somehow managed to weasel his way inside my bag to steal my wallet? And if so, why return it?

I didn’t understand his motivation. I didn’t understand why he’d spoken to me at all. He had me twisted in knots, which I positively loathed.

I settled into my car, into my perpetual scowl, and finished my popcorn.

At the bottom of the paper was my kernel of truth.

Don’t lose your head.

Not bad advice given the interaction I’d just had, or the fact that I’d spent the last week feeling lost and unlike myself.

Two months with Nie had transformed me into someone who actually believed in another person, someone who needed something from someone else. Now that she was gone, I was lonely.

I hadn’t been lonely since I was a child.

Like I had done then, though, I’d get over it.

The moon faded and the sun began to rise during my drive across the city.

Don’t lose your head.

Another thought occurred to me.Don’t lose your headwasn’t the type of advice that belonged as a personalized, magical kernel of truth. It belonged on a motivational poster. Stay cool and calm—pretty much the most generic advice ever.

What a rip-off.

As I parked in the Barnacles lot, the early morning sky turned a different type of dark. A storm was coming.

I headed up the walk.

A wreath of orange and red leaves hung from the door. I couldn’t see them from here, but my favorite part was the plastic spiders that lurked inside the cracks. Between the black painted pumpkins sitting on either side of the porch entry, a cardboard box waited, likely a litter of kittens abandoned to the shelter for care.

Kittens meant a busy morning. They’d need grooming, exams, and isolation. I’d have to check the calendar to see who else would be in today, and call our resident veterinarian-in-training Jayden if he wasn’t scheduled.

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