“So I’m their guinea pig now?”
“Yes, it seems so. They did, however, agree with my assessment that this is due to you rejecting your early training. All of this is supposed to be second nature. I find it difficult to teach you when you’re not where you should be.”
I took a deep breath. “I can’t go back to the past and change things. It’s not helpful. We need a plan to accommodate and accelerate what I can do.”
“And what can you do at this point? Right now you can’t even dispense the vaguest fortune without tea. I find it hard to praise mediocrity.”
The insult stung. My pinched lips begged to release the temper I was trying to keep in check. I could understand her frustration with the boycott, but not her decision to direct it at me.
“At your age,” she continued without pausing, “I could predict events to within thirty minutes. You can’t consistently narrow down the timelines of your visions. I could see specific details. You have unclear impressions.”
My anger escaped, breaking free in a hiss. “Maybe the problem is with the instructor and not the student.”
“Yes, because taking responsibility for your ability now absolves you of the consequences of avoiding it all these years.” Aunt Evelyn crossed her arms. “You choose to reject a remarkable life for an unremarkable one. You want their lives.”
She wasn’t wrong. I wanted nothing more than to be like my cousins, with their bubbles of normalcy. If wishing for the ordinary was a crime, I was already convicted.
“You might be happy watching life happen to other people, but I don’t want this. We deserve to be more than passive observers.”
“We?” Her dark brows shot up. “I paid the price. I adhered to the code and sacrificed. There’s always a cost to everything and you haven’t—”
“Yes, I have! I don’t have friends that aren’t relatives. The longest relationship I’ve had is with Marc, and that’s not even a week. And before you tell me that I’m supposed to accept this, I won’t. It’s not what I want!”
She placed her hands on her hips. “You were given a gift, and you don’t seem to understand that. You are a fortune-teller. The sooner you accept the realities that imposes, the better.”
I shook with impotent rage. My fingers curled and uncurled into fists while the air around them vibrated with heat. She wasn’t hearing me. How could I accept the stupid rules if doing so meant relinquishing all control of my life?
“Before you tried to teach me, you never even considered breaking a rule. You didn’t have the courage to. You accept every tragedy like a gift because you believe it’s the price you have to pay to have clairvoyance.
“If this is how it really is, that you’re relegated to observing life without the chance to live it, then you’re choosing to be miserable. I told you from the beginning that I never wanted this. You do. That’s your choice. I’m not you, Auntie. I don’t want to end up miserable and alone.”
My aunt’s beautiful face reddened as though I had slapped her. Her eyes brimmed with tears. She turned her back to me.
I didn’t mean to hurt her, but in my anger the truth spilled from my soul. I grabbed my purse and left the shop before the first teardrop fell. My aunt didn’t follow.
I unlocked the apartment door upstairs. After I packed up my suitcase, I booked myself a room at a nearby hotel. Once settled in, I would call Ma and tell her what happened.
This was what I’d feared when coming here, that the differences between me and my aunt were too great to overcome. The same argument at six repeated itself again at twenty-seven. We were too far apart on this one subject and it poisoned everything else. Any hope I had of truly connecting with my aunt during this trip was destroyed.
I jotted down a quick note telling her that I needed space and where to find me. The urge to apologize for what I had said crept in, swaying my pen to write out those two words. I refused. They needed to be said face-to-face, and that wouldn’t be anytime soon.
Every corner of this beautiful apartment reflected my aunt: the striking colors, the fresh flowers, the antiques, the elegance. I’d miss it and, yes, I’d miss her, but to stay here a moment longer would be untenable and improper. If I were my aunt, I wouldn’t want to be under the same roof as my ungrateful niece.
My trip to Paris had been a bust.
This venture with my aunt had not panned out as planned. Instead of a triumphant return as a transformed woman, I would return a failure. Back to the same job. Back to the same devastating predictions. Back to a life I could no longer bear.
The only positive outcome from Paris was my friendship with Marc. We still had time to enjoy one another’s company and explore more of what this city had to offer. I wanted our remaining time together to strengthen our bond and keep us connected after I returned home. For the first time in my life, I had someone to call my own. Red thread or not, I didn’t want to lose what I had with Marc.
I pulled out my phone and sent a text to Marc, relaying the reasons behind my impromptu move with a promise to send another message when I was at the hotel, and left the hasty note for my aunt on the kitchen table before rolling my overstuffed luggage down the stairs. The hotel was on boulevard Saint-Germain, the much wider street that needed three crossings due to how it intersected with the other roads. I yanked the handle along and, after looking both ways thrice, crossed the first and second intersections without incident.
Heading east across Saint-Germain was the trickiest—it was the busiest and widest road. The rolling luggage emitted a creaky squeal. It had been groaning from being over capacity from the extra clothes—the new wardrobe Aunt Evelyn generously gave me.
The secret society of fortune-tellers didn’t know what was wrong with me. The person who was supposed to help me couldn’t help herself.
I let out a long sigh dripping with regret.
We got along well except for this. I loved her and I knew she loved me. Perhaps after a few days of cooling off, we could still meet together for that dinner with Marc. This wasn’t how I wanted it to be between us. I enjoyed spending time with her outside of the mandated lessons.
A crackling sound interrupted my thoughts as the wobbly left wheel gave way. The lopsided luggage swayed, careening to the left as I stumbled off balance amid a cacophony of noise. I looked up to see a black delivery van upon me.
Thirty-Three
My phone dropped from my hand. Fine lines branched out across the screen, turning it into the cracked surface of a thawing, shallow lake. My eyes focused on the approaching headlights of the van, two bright suns I couldn’t tear myself away from.
The low rumble of the engine reverberated through my ears, changing pitch as it neared, accompanied by the spinning tires chewing on specks of gravel.