* * *
A cool waft of air blew across Maurice, raising gooseflesh on his arms. He tried to pull his hand free of Gisele’s, but her grip tightened around his, holding him in place a second longer.
His gaze met Amelie’s across Gisele’s petite form.
Amelie’s eyes were wide and a little glassy. A shiver shook her frame.
Gisele straightened, dropped their hands and blinked. “I guess the spirits weren’t communing.” She shrugged. “Whatever. You two will figure it out together. I have to get back to the gift shop before Johnny starts cursing at customers.”
Amelie gave a shaky laugh. “I’m surprised you let that parrot stay in the shop. Doesn’t he offend your customers?”
Gisele chuckled. “Absolutely. I think that’s why they come back. Now, I came for a loaf of your bread, if you’ve had time to make some. Rafael asked for a club sandwich for lunch.”
“I have some.” Amelie rubbed her arms as she moved toward the bread wrapped in cellophane. She handed it to Gisele and stared at the woman. “You know you gave us a prediction, don’t you?”
Gisele’s eyebrows rose. “Did I?”
Amelie and Maurice nodded as one.
“Hmm,” Gisele said with a satisfied nod. “If you say I did, I guess I did.” She tucked the loaf of bread under her arm and handed Amelie a bill to pay.
Amelie pushed the money back at Gisele. “Consider it a peace-offering to the spirit. A request to go easy on us.”
Gisele pursed her lips. “Must’ve been a doozy of a message.”
“You don’t remember any of it?” Maurice remembered every word as if it had been seared into his brain.
“Not a word.” Her brow wrinkled. “Was it bad?”
Amelie rubbed her arms again. “It could be.”
“Definitely creepy,” Maurice added.
“I’m sure that, together, you will come through.” Gisele patted Amelie’s arm. “Be safe, my friend.” With the bread tucked under her arm, she floated out of the bakery, singing something that sounded like abracadabra.
Amelie’s gaze followed her friend out the door. “What do you suppose her words meant?” She turned to Maurice.
“I don’t know,” he said.
“Do you remember what she said?”
He nodded and repeated Gisele’s prediction, word for word,
“Spirits be stirrin’,
Dark waters will rise.
Dance once with death
To reach the far side.
Through the dark night,
Let hope be your guide.
Trust your heart, cher?—
For love will survive.”
