ted yet, but the sky

avy, and inevitable. I lit my third cigarette before I'd finished the second, let

eral wa

than the woman who barely visited my grandmother while she was alive. No one looked more somber than my cousin with his Rolex half out of his sleeve. I

he wa

and held it in un

r asked, cracking th

didn't need a ride.

n to burn someth

led trees and a crumbling garden path, wrapped in chipped paint and the smell of incense and rot. I used to think it was part of some eccentr

hed. She

he wa

e doctor had said

lsh

fore her heart "gave out," she drew a card the gypsy called The Death Duo-two c

pale. My grandmothe

ground, and the g

d the butt into the mud, and kn

open with

dn't c

und her dark curls like a warning. She sat behind her table as if she'd

pped insi

te," she s

ning. You'll understand if

chair across from he

and simmering. "You to

what the c

e d

was w

out my engraved brass lighter. Flipped it open. Closed it.

d two cards. Called

It usually means a sacrifice must be made. A l

believ

t matter if I do. The cards are n

ing from my lips. "Then tell

d. "Now y

"Tell me what comes next be

. She ran her fingers over them like they were sleeping animals, then began to shuffle wit

ra

k. My fingers hovered before pulling

ir sh

ed the f

g of Di

to men who conquer rooms. Who run empires. Cold hands

d the sec

ng of

uth d

not just a ruler. A king with a crown

?" I asked, a

ics gone. "You have both within you. But yo

Power or love. Business or

which card pulsed h

ose di

e it. You will have power. And

tened, but I d

ched for the

she said quietly.

. "What the hell

ng that can

rned i

een of

gal. Fearless. Bea

red. "Hair like flame. A heart you'll try to

chair scraping hard ag

I'm scared

you sho

absurdity of it all. A life reduced to cards and shadow

heirloom. Weighted just slightly in my favor. My

ate decide,"

e dice acro

se

cky n

mother's

and wal

he wagon on fi

ng her garden. How she'd called me her diamond king long before I knew what that meant. How she'd told me, once, in a voi

d alread

the dim candlelight flic

d walk

n the past. Burn the superstition that wormed

silk tie. The one I

wagon's handles, knotting it

struck

scarf she'd draped over the porch rail.

n't f

ts could burn wit

e lit up the sky behind me. The clou

ntu

alway

ready whe

a King s