“It will,” the man says confidently. “When you do, a new love will take root and grow. It’ll be unlike anything you’ve experienced before.” He purses his lips and looks to the sky. “But the road to that love won’t be without its struggles. It appears you will have many obstacles to face together before you get that happy ending.”
Nick looks to me and offers a smile that I return.
“Is there anything else that I should know?” Nick asks, and the man closes his eyes again.
“You have gifts that you suppress. Open your mind and heart, and they’ll manifest.”
Nick’s face screws up. “That, I doubt.” Nick shakes his head. “I’ll leave the gifts to others.”
I exchange a look with Nick, feeling a mixture of excitement and curiosity. What powers could Nick have that he’s refusing to use? Can he be persuaded to one day drop that wall and allow himself to fully embrace that this world isn’t what it seems?
The psychic turns to me, his eyes piercing my soul. “You are surrounded by spirits,” he says solemnly. “Not everyone can be helped, and you must be prepared to tell some to move on. Closure isn’t granted to all.”
His words feel like a punch to the gut. What’s the point in having this ability if I can’t help them?
“Do you have any idea how many spirits are roaming the streets of New Orleans?” the man says, grabbing my attention. “Too many. It would take you your lifetime to send even a portion ofthem on. It’s impossible, and you’ll only wear yourself down quickly trying. Take precautions and know what your body can handle.” He narrows his eyes. “Angry spirits are something you shouldn’t trifle with. Allow someone who understands dark arts to tackle those in the future.”
I swallow, feeling entirely too exposed by this man. How does he know so much about us when we’ve only just met? Could I one day do the same?
Nick stands, holding out his hand to me. “Thank you, sir. We appreciate your help.”
He throws a fifty-dollar bill onto the table before pulling me to my feet. “We appreciate your time.”
I follow Nick down the road, but my mind is stuck back on that strange man who knew far too much.
“Do you want dessert?” Nick asks, and I turn to look at him with a pinched expression.
“I couldn’t eat if I wanted to right now.”
He nods his head. “Let’s head back to the B and B. We’ve had enough for one day, I’d say.”
A heavy breath bursts from my chest, exhaustion taking over. He’s right. It was too much.
I don’t evenremember the walk back to the Garden District. We were both silent, lost in our own thoughts. I can only guess what held Nick’s attention, but mine was stuck on the fact that I have to pick and choose who I help. That feels like a heavy burden to bear. How can I turn spirits away, knowing that someone will likely be left here on earth to suffer? It’s heartbreaking to think about.
We’re in front of the Ramada House when Nick turns to look at me.
“Are you angry with me?”
I move back a step, looking up at him. “Why would I be angry with you?”
Air expels from his open mouth. “You haven’t said a word since we left that guy. I just assumed…” His words trail off.
“I’m not,” I say, shaking my head. “I’ve been too busy thinking about what he said. It’s bothering me to think about turning a spirit away who just wants closure.”
His head moves up and down. “I get it.” My eyes narrow in on him, not because I’m skeptical, but because I’m curious about what he’s thinking. “I have three filing cabinets back at the station full of unsolved cases. Families left wondering what happened to their loved ones. So, when I say I understand, I truly do, Alyssa.” He takes my hand and brings it to his lips, planting a gentle kiss. “All we can do is try to help as many as we can. It has to be enough.”
“How do I choose?” I whisper.
He shrugs. “For me, I felt a special calling to homicide. I didn’t have a personal connection. As stupid as it sounds, I watched a true-crime documentary, and it stuck with me. I put myself in the victims’ shoes and knew that if someone ever hurt my family, I would die getting to the truth.”
“Maybe I should take Bee’s advice and ask the universe to send me the people that need my help the most.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Where did she come from anyway?”
“That would be Corinne’s aunt,” I respond, a smirk playing on my lips as I notice the slight wrinkle of his nose.
“That makes sense,” he chuckles, though the humor fades from his expression swiftly. “About Isla…”
