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As a former Olympic kickboxer and a woman who thrived on hard evidence and facts, she found herself out of her element in this unusual environment. She couldn't help but wonder if she was chasing shadows, but her gut told her there was more to Autumn Wood and this palm reading studio.
The walls were adorned with tapestries depicting celestial beings, while shelves displayed an array of crystals and dusty old books about various forms of divination. Soft, haunting music played in the background as incense smoke swirled around her, tickling her nose and making her eyes water slightly.
"Get a grip, Sheila," she muttered under her breath, checking her wristwatch for what felt like the hundredth time. She was a few minutes early, but her impatience gnawed at her like a relentless itch. Her mind raced with thoughts of the case and the mysterious tarot cards found at the crime scene. Could Autumn have any connection to the murders, or was it all just a terrible coincidence?
Shifting her weight in the plush chair, Sheila tried to focus on her breathing, inhaling the musky scent of the incense. She reminded herself that she was here to learn, to uncover any possible leads, no matter how unconventional they seemed. But deep down, she couldn't completely shake off the skepticism that clung to her like a second skin.
Twenty minutes prior to entering Moirai Mysteries, Sheila had sat in her car, flipping through an online article on her phone about palm reading. She'd squinted at the diagrams depicting various lines and mounts, trying to commit them to memory. The headline claimed that these markings held the key to understanding one's past, present, and future. Though skeptical, she couldn't deny a small part of her that was intrigued by the idea.
Was it just clever guesswork, or was there something more to it?
As she researched, Sheila had found herself drawn to the concept of fate and how the lines in one's hands were said to be shaped by it. Despite her practical nature, she couldn't help but wonder if there was some truth to the notion that certain events were destined to occur.
The door to the inner room creaked open, pulling Sheila from her thoughts. A serene-looking woman with long, flowing auburn hair appeared, smiling warmly at her. Dressed in a flowing white dress adorned with various crystals, Autumn Wood exuded an aura of tranquility, her eyes sparkling with a gentle kindness.
"Hello, Sheila," she said softly, her voice melodic and soothing. "I'm so glad you could make it. Please, come in."
Sheila hesitated for a moment, then rose from her seat, feeling a strange mix of curiosity and trepidation as she followed Autumn into the dimly lit room beyond.
It was like stepping into a dream, or perhaps more accurately, someone else's dream. The walls were draped in deep purple tapestries depicting celestial bodies and mystical symbols, casting an ethereal glow over the small space. A round table stood in the center of the room, covered with a dark velvet cloth embroidered with silver threads. Candles flickered from their various holders, casting dancing shadows that seemed to breathe life into the otherwise still surroundings.
Sheila felt her heart rate increase as she took in the unfamiliar setting, feeling out of place amidst the arcane ambiance. Her fingers twitched instinctively, longing for the comforting touch of her kickboxing gloves or the sturdy grip of her police badge.
"Are you alright?" Autumn asked gently, her eyes filled with concern. "You seem a little…nervous."
"A bit, I guess," Sheila admitted, rubbing her palms against her jeans. "I've never done anything like this before. It's not exactly my usual scene."
Autumn smiled softly, nodding in understanding. "It can be disconcerting for some people at first, especially when they're used to relying on logic and evidence. I've had clients from all walks of life—doctors, lawyers, even fellow officers like yourself. And believe me, even the most confident and self-assured individuals can feel a bit unsettled when faced with the unknown. But rest assured, I will do everything in my power to help you feel comfortable during our session."
Sheila took a deep breath, attempting to quiet the anxious thoughts racing through her mind. This might not have been her preferred method of investigation, but it was a lead—and she couldn't afford to let her personal biases get in the way of solving the case.
"Thank you," she murmured, forcing a smile onto her face. "I appreciate that."
"Of course," Autumn replied, gesturing toward one of the chairs surrounding the table. "Please, have a seat."
Sheila hesitated for a moment before easing herself into the chair, her eyes darting around the room as though searching for hidden threats. The flickering candlelight illuminated Autumn's serene expression as she sat down across from Sheila, her fingers gently tracing the edges of the deck of tarot cards laid out before her.
"Let's begin, then," Autumn said softly, her gaze meeting Sheila's with an unspoken promise of truth and understanding. And despite her lingering doubts, Sheila found herself unable to look away—drawn in by the allure of the unknown and the possibility of answers that lay just beyond her grasp.
"May I ask why you're here, Sheila?" Autumn asked, her voice gentle and nonjudgmental.
Sheila hesitated, unsure of how much to reveal. "I just...I wanted to learn more about palm reading," she finally said, doing her best to sound genuinely curious.
Autumn tilted her head slightly, her eyes narrowing as if she could see right through Sheila's facade. "You think I might be involved in the murders, don't you?" she asked softly, without a hint of accusation in her tone.
Sheila's heart clenched, her fingers gripping the edge of the chair for a moment before she admitted, "Yes, that thought did cross my mind."
Autumn nodded slowly, an understanding smile touching her lips. "I had a feeling you came here for professional reasons rather than personal ones."
"The tarot cards left at the crime scenes—I wanted to talk with you about those again. There must be something you can tell me about them, some theory as to why the killer would have left them."
Autumn pressed her lips together. "I think it's important that we focus on you first, Sheila. If you allow me to read your palm, I promise I'll answer any questions you have afterward."
Sheila's curiosity warred with her skepticism. She hesitated for a moment, her heart pounding in her chest. She had come this far, and she couldn't back out now. With a deep breath, she extended her hand toward Autumn.
"Alright," she said, her voice low. "You can read my palm."
Autumn smiled gently and grasped Sheila's hand, her fingers cool and soft against Sheila's calloused skin. As the palm reader traced her fingertips along the lines of Sheila's hand, Sheila felt an odd tingling sensation that sent shivers up her spine. It was as if Autumn's touch was unlocking something within her, something she had kept hidden away for a long time.
