“Is that the set fromThese Shining Lives?” Stephanie asked.
“What’s that?”
“It’s a play about women factory workers who died of radiation poisoning. They thought they were getting good jobs, but you know…”
Jessica grimaced. “No one needs to know. It looks Christmassy to me. Thanks, Tiffany, you’re a real life-saver.”
I had to admit, it felt good to be a part of something.
Once we’d cleaned up, we parted ways with hugs in the parking lot.
Stephanie lingered as I unlocked the hearse. She gave me a serious look and said, “Text me when you get home. That house is so big and empty.”
“Oh, I’m fine. I have a roommate.”
“Just do it.” She gave me another hug, squeezing me tight. “Us Murderinos have to stick together. Stay sexy and don’t get murdered.”
My undead heart squeezed at her undue concern.
Twenty minutes later, when I arrived home to the woman I’d accidentally murdered, I texted Stephanie.
Me:SSDGM.
Stephanie:back at you girl!
When I walked through the front door of the inn, it appeared transformed. The place was cozy instead of cluttered. Blankets had been draped over the worn fabric of chairs, rugs had been artfully arranged to cover gaps in the wood flooring, and the air smelled of essential oils instead of acrid smoke. Heaven was reclining on a chair beneath the chandelier that she must have restrung with crystals. I’d only been gone one evening and she’d done an almost concerning amount of work.
“Did you do this by yourself?” I asked. “Because whoa.”
She waved to me and turned her attention back to her phone. “So my decorating tip for the day is to arrange your furniture so as not to impede the flow of cosmic energy.” She stood and panned her camera across the room. “Mmm. Did you feel that? Because I did.” She twirled in the mosaic of light cast by the chandelier.
“Before I sign off, one more thing.” She squared her shoulders and looked into the phone like she was about to drop some truth. Her eyes were peeled open too wide and her energy nearly radioactive. “This is the only financial lesson you will ever need. Money is attracted to me.”
When I snorted, she gave me a dirty look and said, “Repeat after me, people: MONEY IS ATTRACTED TO ME!”
I wish.
“Don’t waste energy chasing money,” she said in the booming tones ofa preacher. Her voice filled the entryway, too loud in our empty house. “If chasing money worked, everyone would be rich. Instead, let it chase you.”
Maybe Heaven had channeled her bloodlust into decorating and TikToks.
We’d been living exclusively off coconut water since Halloween. It was almost satisfying, but it wasn’t blood. I’d ordered a few more cases because we’d burned through the original Costco pallets. At this pace, we needed an entire coconut farm to support us, maybe two.
With her livestream over, I handed a box to Heaven in hopes it would help her settle down. She was glowing. “Did you steal my good lotion?” I joked.
She sat down on the stairs and absent-mindedly opened the coconut water. “I watched the sunset tonight. I’ve never had so much energy or felt so alive.”
“You seem a little hype. Is that norm—” I trailed off because she was too focused on her phone, not listening.
“Hallelujah, praise the lord!” Heaven barely flinched at the smiting. Her eyes wide, clutching the crystal around her neck, she whispered, “It worked.”
Oh, no. “What worked?”
“Moneyisattracted to me,” she said.
“What? Did we win the lottery?”
After an emotional pause she said, “My followers started a GoFundMe. They’re paying for us to fix up Radiance.”
