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“Interesting,” Amy said. “I wonder what she told people and what the truth was?”
“Don’t get me started on sisters,” Faith said, then shook her head at Zoë. “I understand why you did what you did, but I’d never have the courage to do something like that.”
“You should have stood up to your mother-in-law while your husband was alive,” Zoë said. “You shouldn’t have let her beat you down until you exploded.” Zoë stopped when Amy’s look reminded her that they weren’t supposed to know how serious Faith’s attack on her mother-in-law had been—or the consequences.
“Yeah, sure I should have,” Faith said, her eyes not meeting Zoë’s. She got up and went to the sink.
Amy looked at Zoë. “Even after all that, you still didn’t find out what happened just before your wreck?”
“No,” Zoë said. “I spent a few days in jail, then had to do some community service, and—”
“In your hometown?” Amy asked.
“No.” All the humor left Zoë’s face. “That’s what the judge wanted, but the mayor refused to have me. I ended up working at an old-age home.”
“I bet you drew for them,” Faith said.
“Sure did. It was better than cleaning bedpans. I took the photos of their grandkids and made portraits. It was through them that I met their rich kids and started my job as an itinerant portrait painter.”
“Destiny,” Amy said, and Zoë groaned. “No, maybe it was your destiny to meet those people and draw their grandchildren, and through them—”
“Yesterday you said that my destiny had been changed and that’s why I was so angry.”
“What do I know?” Amy said. “The only destiny I’m sure about is my own. I was supposed to marry Stephen and have three children. There’s a little girl’s spirit just waiting for me to make a body for her.”
Faith smiled at Amy. “I wish I had your conviction,” she said. “I’ve never been sure about what I was supposed to do.”
“Murder your mother-in-law,” Zoë said quickly, then looked at Amy. “If Stephen is your destiny, then why are you having these fabulous dreams about another man?”
“I don’t know,” Amy said.
“Maybe it’s what Zoë said about past lives.” Both Amy and Zoë looked at Faith in puzzlement. “What if Stephen is your destiny in this life and this Hawthorne is your destiny in a past life?”
“I’m not sure I believe in past lives,” Amy said, but she was thinking about what Faith said.
“I think you should find out as much as you can about this man Hawthorne, and if you have another dream about him, you should do what you can to change his fate,” Faith said.
“But that doesn’t make sense,” Zoë said. “If she changed what happened to the man, would the books change? The print? How is that possible?”
“I don’t know,” Amy said, then put her hand to her face in pain. “If it weren’t for the physical evidence, I’d think I’d made it all up.” She looked from Faith to Zoë and smiled. “I want to thank both of you for not making fun of me. If I’d told anyone else what was happening to me, they’d—”
“Think you’d hurt yourself and send you to therapy,” Zoë said quickly. When Amy and Faith looked at her, she said, “Not that I know about self-mutilation. But, anyway, Amy, I’m glad you’re telling us all this because they’re great stories. I think that today I might add some paint to these pictures of Nathaniel Hawthorne’s English cousin or whoever he is.”
“What about you, Amy?” Faith asked. “Any plans for today?”
The way she said it made Amy know that Faith wanted to do something on her own. But that was good for Amy because she had her own plans. “I didn’t buy those sheets I owe Jeanne,” she said, “so I think I’ll get them. Thank heavens she has good mattress pads on the bed or it would have been soaked last night.”
“If that had happened, Jeanne would ask you so many questions that you’d end up telling her about your dreams,” Zoë said.
“She’s that persuasive?”
“Yes and no. If you work at it, she can be got around,” Zoë said.
“Okay,” Amy said, standing up. “I’m going to go exploring on my own today. I’ll get sheets and…” She shrugged. She knew exactly what she wanted to do, but she wasn’t going to tell them.
Thirty minutes later, Amy was dressed and the bruises on her face were covered as best she could. She’d taken two pain tablets to dull the ache. When she left, Zoë was bent over her sketch pad and Faith was on the Internet. They hardly looked up when Amy said goodbye.
As soon as she was outside, Amy looked again at the card in her hand. Madame Zoya, 333 Everlasting Street. She didn’t remember seeing the street but she was determined to find it. She didn’t want to ask directions from anyone for fear they’d laugh at her for going to the local psychic.
