Page 38 of Saving Saul

It’s one of the fortune tellers hired for the night—or at least, that’s what I’d thought. But now, I can see she’s so much more than that up close. Her face is painted with intricate, swirling patterns, and small bones and herbs dangle from her braids, rattling softly as she moves.

And then it hits me.

She looks just like my mother.

The resemblance is uncanny—the same sharp cheekbones, full lips, piercing eyes that seem to see straight through me. My heart stumbles in my chest, and I can’t move, can’t breathe.

This isn’t just a fortune teller. This is something else entirely. She stares at me with a knowing smirk, her fingers clutching my pearls like they’re the final piece of a puzzle only she understands.

The room tilts slightly as I take an unsteady step back, my voice a shaky whisper. “Mama?”

She doesn’t answer. But how she looks at me—intense, deliberate—makes me feel like she’s holding secrets I’m not sure I’m ready to hear.

I clutch at Saul’s solid form, desperate to steady myself. The lace, the pearls, the way her soft curls frame her face—it’s her.It’s her.My breath comes in short, shallow bursts, and my heart pounds so loudly it drowns out everything else. I’m barelyupright, teetering on the edge of disbelief and the ache of longing I’ve carried for so long.

But whatisshe? Because everything about her—the way the air bends around her and her presence hums with energy—screams that she’s something far beyond human.

Her white wedding dress is worn, almost ancient, and covered by an elaborate robe. A heady aroma of incense, sage, and something citrusy—burning oranges, maybe—wraps around us like a veil.

Furthermore, she doesn’t even glance my way. Instead, she locks eyes with Saul, her gaze sharp and deliberate, before reaching out to grab his hands. Her grip is firm, unyielding like he’s the only one that matters now. I am invisible, my feelings shake with something dangerously close to resentment. How could she… bypass me? Her daughter? The air feels heavy and charged, and the world around us seems to shift, but all I can think is,Why him? Why not me? Why never me?

“What is this?” I ask, my voice trembling, betraying the steady tone I desperately try to fake.

Saul keeps his focus entirely on her. Her eyes flutter shut, and she begins chanting in a language that feels older than time itself. The words are deep and melodic, vibrating like a drumbeat.

“Saul!” I gasp, but he doesn’t even flinch. Instead, he responds to her, his deep voice rolling out words in the same strange, ancient rhythm. The speech flows between them like a holy conversation, seamless and powerful. The language slips from his lips as if it’s something he’s known all his life, a sacred prayer awakening from deep within him.

What. In. The. Entire. Hell.

I knew it. I told Selene this supernatural shit was real.

Their conversation stops abruptly, leaving a deafening silence in my ears. His expression is unreadable, but the tensionradiating from his body is palpable. His shoulders are tight, his hands still trembling faintly from the energy that passed through them.

She turns to me, her lips curving into a knowing smirk.

I watch as Saul takes my hand and takes a shaky step back, his wariness etched into every line of his face. He glances at me, his dark eyes brimming with something between awe and suspicion, like he’s just entered a world he didn’t know existed.

“She was speaking to me,” he says, his voice low and rough like the words are coated in gravel. “In Gã.”

I blink at him. “Gã?”

Saul nods, his brows furrowing. “It’s a language native to my people in Ghana. My grandmother spoke it fluently. But I haven’t heard it since I was a kid.” He looks back toward the spirit—my mama—but there’s no longing in his gaze, only guarded curiosity and an undercurrent of unease.

“How could she know that?” he mutters, almost to himself. “Why would she?—”

His words cut off as she lifts a hand, almost in a gesture of reassurance. But Saul doesn’t relax. If anything, his body grows tenser, his jaw clenching as he steps farther back, putting more distance between himself and the apparition.

“This is a trick, Tessa,” he says, his tone sharp, warning. “Whatever this is, it’s not what it seems. A person doesn’t just show up out of nowhere conversing with me in a language I’ve barely spoken myself.”

He’s not wrong. The eyes give her away. They’re too knowing, precise, and sharp to belong to the mama I’ve spent my whole life yearning for. But she looks just like her. She’s an apparition, feeding on my longing, my grief.

There’s something about her that feels…acquainted. My grand-mere called themfamiliar spirits.

It’s not evil, just a cruel reflection of the love I’ve always wanted. She’s here to haunt, not harm. To remind me of the embrace I’ll never have, even as she lingers, just close enough to make me wish otherwise. She may have spoken to Saul, but it’s clear she’s here for me.

Saul’s voice snaps me out of my thoughts. “Don’t let her get in your head,” he says firmly, his gaze locked on mine.

The weight of his words settles heavily between us, but I can’t tear my eyes away from her. Not yet.

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