But today, she chose the one I preferred the most. The old and tattered Chinese deck, gifted to her by her late grandmother. The Deck of Fates, as she called it. I didn’t believe it could tell anyone’s path, but she still insisted on reading mine. And I went along with it, hoping the cards would know what to do when I didn’t.
“They are also known for numerous acts of charity,” I continued. “The current head of the dynasty is Lilian Thornbury?—”
At the name, Anhe Fei chose three cards and laid them face down on the table with a strange deliberation.
“—Granddaughter of the late Orion Thornbury, who died of tuberculosis in 1928. His death was followed by a series of misfortunes which linked the family’s name to numerous superstitions.”
Anhe Fei shook her head, the tight bun on top unmoving. “Tuberculosis is a horrible death to die,” she said softly.
“Aren’t they all?” I muttered, earning no reply, just the slow flipping of the first card. I felt a tug inside me, and I leaned closer to the hand-painted crimson cards.
The Devil.
A chill worked its way into my spine, the sight of the card a little too on-the-nose.
“The Devil represents your shadow self,” Anhe Fei murmured, her voice low and distant, like she was half-elsewhere. “You’ll have to face what you’ve been avoiding. Parts of you that may not be kind.”
A weight lodged in my throat.
She flipped the second card. A blindfolded woman holding two blades, one for each hand. The kind of balance that came with tension, not peace.
“But if you make the right choices…” Her fingers hovered, then revealed the last. A blonde boy, serene, dangling upside down by one leg, with chains around his ankles. The hanged man. His face unnervingly calm, as if he welcomed the pain. My chest tightened as I stared.
“You’ll find a new perspective,” she said.
The words echoed inside me. Would I learn to accept the torture, like he had?
“What does this mean to you?” she asked gently, and I shifted on the wooden chair.
“That I’m miserable?” I asked with a shrug.
Anhe Fei shook her head. “It means you have a choice. Stay,” she lifted her right hand, “in a life you do not enjoy. Or leave,” her left hand rose, “and discover something else.” Her palms floated for a moment, like scales too delicate to settle. “Neither path will be easy. But clarity never is.”
I squinted at her, chewing the inside of my cheek. This was why I hated tarot—it never gave straight answers. Only more riddles to drown in.
“So you think I should go?” I asked, hoping she would tell me what to do, even though I was sure she wouldn’t.
She tilted her head, a small smile tugging at her mouth. “Do you think you should go?”
I sighed, leaning back in the chair.
Anhe Fei vanished for a moment, then returned with a chipped mug. A blue pig with a golden handle grinned up at me. I wrapped my hands around the porcelain, the steam brushing warmth across my cheeks. Valerian root and lavender. Calming and ancient. I didn’t even notice her pull her chair behind me until she started brushing my hair. The gentle touch of the comb as it slid through my curls made my eyelids grow heavy. When I did it myself, I lost half of my hair and just as much of my sanity.
“Dark as night and just as strong,” she said, her voice soft. “Your hair is a mirror to your soul, just as your eyes. Don’t forget that.”
I nodded. “Does that mean my soul isdark as night?”
Her answer was a barely audible disapproving hum.
I let myself settle back into the silence. Into the comfort of the flat.
This is your choice to make, bug.My mum’s voice flickered through my mind like candlelight. Faint, fleeting, gone. I took a sip of the tea, letting the warmth bloom through the hollow of my chest. The cards lay in front of me like three crimson doors leading into labyrinths of possibilities.
And still, I didn’t know which I should choose.
Half an hour later,I was sitting on my lonely mattress resting my back against my pillow. The sun had begun to slip over the edge of the horizon, streaking through the single round window of the flat and turning everything green.
I should’ve been asleep by now.
