My stomach tightens, just a little. “Talking how?” I ask.
Nessa shrugs. “Not friendly. More like … cajoling. Trying to persuade them it will work out.”
Phoenix’s eyes narrow. “That doesn’t sound great.”
“No,” I say quietly. “It doesn’t.”
Phoenix sets her glass down. "How many texts have you received now?"
"Three. Unknown numbers, but I know they are him. The last one mentioned the cabin property specifically."
"Forward them all to me," Phoenix says, in her attorney voice now, "Screenshot everything. Dates, times, and content. If he's connected to Yarrow and they're interfering with a city inspection that's not just harassment—that's potentially tortious interference."
"So we have something?" I ask.
"Not yet," she says carefully. "But you will. Keep documenting. The moment there's a pattern we can take to someone, you'll have it."
We pause for a moment, letting that information settle before Nessa wrangles us back on task.
“Okay.” Nessa is already shifting forward like she’s been waiting for her moment. “We are not sitting here with glowy skin and good lighting without intention.”
Phoenix groans. “I knew this was coming.”
“No,” Nessa says, digging into her bag and pulling out a deck of cards like she’s about to perform a trick. “These are oracle cards. Unlike tarot, there is no set structure or somewhat rigid meanings. These are more flexible, specifically used for spiritual guidance.”
“That sounds like you prepared that for your podcast,” Mack mentions
“It sounds like the tarot industry is trying to expand into more modern, mainstream forms,” Phoenix mutters.
Nessa ignores both of them, aggressively shuffling like the cards personally offended her. One nearly flies off the table. Mack catches it mid-air without looking up from her face mask.
“Thank you,” Nessa says.
“I’m invested now,” Mack says calmly. “Continue.”
I press my lips together to keep from laughing, taking another sip. This feels … right. Having my friends gathered again in my home.
Nessa fans the cards across the table with a flourish that would be more impressive if half of them weren’t slightly bent. The candlelight catches the edges of the spread, making the whole table look more intentional than it probably is.
“Everyone pulls one,” Nessa demands. “We set the tone. We reflect. We grow.” She adds with a flourish of her hand.
“You practiced that too,” I laugh, staring at the deck.
“I care about us,” Nessa shoots back. “And yes, you all are my guinea pigs, you’re welcome, my cute little furballs. Phoenix, you first.”
“Why me?”
“Because you’re the most resistant, and I need to humble you.”
Phoenix rolls her eyes but leans forward anyway, hovering her hand over the spread.
“For the record,” she says, “I don’t believe in this.”
“Great,” Nessa says. “Then you won’t overthink it.”
Phoenix’s fingers move slowly over the cards. Not touching. Hovering, like she’s waiting for something. When she picks one, she doesn’t flip it right away.
“Don’t get weird about it,” Vanessa says.
