A commotion next to us has Nina and I halting our conversation to see what’s going down. Of course, we find Lanie in the center of the controversy.
“Get your damn hands off me before I break your arm in two,” she snaps. “I already told you no.”
Nina and I rush toward Lanie, hoping to pull her from the intoxicated man’s grasp. He’s clearly had one too many drinks—his speech is slurred and his movements are unsteady—while his friends stand by, finding amusement in his inappropriate behavior.
Nina grabs the guy’s arm, narrowing her eyes. “Does your friend over there know you’re sleeping with his fiancée?” she confronts him, her tone laced with accusation.
The man recoils, taken aback by Nina’s blunt revelation. He mutters a half-hearted apology before slinking away into the crowd before Nina can out him to his friend.
“Jerk,” Nina barks to his back. “I think we should head toward Jackson Square and see if we can find this Aunt Bee.”
I nod.
Jackson Square isn’t as crowded as Bourbon Street was. Thereare tables and tents set up around the perimeter of a park. We walk the line in search of Corinne’s aunt, who’s sure to be every bit as eccentric as her mother.
Bee’s presence is unmistakable, her table adorned with mystical trinkets and a deck of tarot cards laid out in front of her. As we approach, we catch the tail end of a reading, the girl in tears of joy as she embraces Bee.
“Thank you so much,” the small, dark-haired girl whispers to Bee.
With a warm smile, Bee waves the girl off. “Go…revel in your newfound happiness.”
The girl bobs her head and smiles before darting off toward her friends waiting off to the side.
As soon as the girl is out of earshot, Bee turns her attention to us. “Poor girl. She’s about to get engaged all right, but she’ll leave him for his brother.”
My head snaps toward the girl practically skipping away, happily reciting all that Bee shared about her future.
“Why didn’t you tell her?” I blurt out, unable to mask my incredulity.
It seems cruel to withhold such critical information, especially when it could drastically alter someone’s life trajectory.
“She didn’t ask,” she states matter-of-factly, as though it were the most natural thing in the world.
Her casual dismissal plants seeds of doubt about her true intentions. It’s as if she views people merely as pawns in some cosmic game, oblivious to the gravity of her readings and the profound impact they could have on lives. The thought leaves a bitter taste in my mouth, tarnishing the hope I had for this meeting. It’s entirely the opposite of what I wish to do with my abilities.
Her sharp gaze lands on me, scrutinizing me in a way that only raises my hackles more.
“Corinne Moradi sent us,” Nina says, likely hoping to establish a connection.
As for me, I simply want to turn around and find someone else.
The mention of her niece’s name sparks recognition in Bee, and she regards me with renewed interest.
“You…you’re the one with powers,” she murmurs, her voice tinged with awe.
“That’s what we came to talk about,” I reply, feeling torn about how I wish to proceed with the woman.
“Can you tell us how our abilities work?” Nina asks, taking the decision out of my hands.
“Your abilities? You have them too?” she says, sounding skeptical.
Nina nods her head.
“I’m heading to grab beignets. When you’re done, meet me at Café du Monde.” Lanie doesn’t wait for us to respond before she’s heading off.
Bee’s expression softens, and she gestures for us to follow her.
“You don’t need to be here?” I say, pointing toward her table.
