Page 141 of Sinful Lies

Stella squealed and dragged me toward the tent, already beaming like her future had just been written in the cards.

The inside of the tent was even darker than I expected, the air heavy with the faint smell of burnt sage and something sickly sweet. Fake skeletons hung in the corners, their hollow eyes staring at us, and cobwebs—probably real, knowing my luck—draped the ceiling like some low-budget haunted house.

A single wooden table sat in the middle, draped in a deep-red velvet cloth, its edges frayed like it had seen better days. Fat, black candles were scattered across it, their flames flickering low, casting jagged shadows on the walls. A crystal ball sat dead center, the light catching its surface and refracting eerie streaks of blue and green.

The man gestured toward two stools—old, creaky ones made of rough, uneven wood. I sat gingerly, half expecting it to collapse beneath me. Stella, of course, plopped down like this was the best day of her life.

The second we were seated, a chill ran down my arms, and I instinctively rubbed them. It wasn’t cold exactly, but somethingabout the atmosphere made my skin crawl, like the tent itself had secrets it wasn’t planning to share.

The man slid into the chair across from us.

Without a word, he extended his hand, palm up, the universal signal for money first.

I sighed, digging into my bag, and slapped a ten-dollar bill into his palm.

He pocketed the bill and leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. His gaze shifted between us, the flickering candlelight making his painted devil face even more grotesque.

“Allora,” he said, his voice dropping to a raspy whisper, “which one of you ladies is brave enough to go first?”

Stella raised her hand. “Me!”

The man grabbed a deck of cards, and with a flick of his wrist, they spun between his fingers in a blur of black and gold. His hands moved quickly, fluidly—like he was performing some dark magic, or maybe just trying too hard to be dramatic. For a solid two minutes, all we could hear was the rustle of cards and the eerie hum of distant chanting. It was low, like a dark lullaby, the voices of both men and women blending together.

And then, just as the air grew thick with that strange energy, the music abruptly cut off.

The man stopped, placed the deck in front of us, and spread the cards out in a fan. “Choose three cards, my child.”

Stella’s eyes lit up like a kid in a candy store, and I could practically see her pulse quicken. She giggled, pointing to three cards.

The man reached for the cards, slowly turning each one over.

As he laid them out, my stomach dropped.

The first card was the Two of Cups.

Then came The Lovers, reversed.

And finally, the last card - a depiction of a corpse pierced brutally, unmoving - the Ten of Swords.

A chill ran down my spine.

The man’s eyes darkened. “You were blessed on this earth to have the deepest connection with someone—la tua anima gemella, your soulmate.”

“That’s you, Jadie!” Stella beamed, squeezing my hand with a smile so wide it was contagious.

The man’s expression shifted, his tone more serious. “You’re going to fall in love—hard. It will be your first, and only lover. You’ll love him deeply, deeper than love itself.” His eyes narrowed as if the next part was something he didn’t want to say, but he had no choice. “But this love… will be your doom,dolcezza.”

I blinked, waiting for him to continue.

He pointed to the last card—Death—and my skin prickled. “This love will kill you. Figuratively. Spiritually. Physically.”

I stood up, throwing my hands in the air. “That’s it? We pay you five bucks each just for you to spout random crap like this?” I shook my head, already over it. “Come on, Stella, we’re leaving. Told you it was a scam.”

Stella laughed. “Hold up—me? Falling in love? Having some tragic, dramatic love story like Romeo and Juliet? That’s so cool!”

I shot her a look.

“Sit,dolcezza. I’m not done.”

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