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“You know his name?” Charlotte demanded. “What is it?”
Naturally, if Florentia uttered a silly, everyman’s name—like Jon or Benjamin, Charlotte would know to dismiss it. It was easy to guess the sorts of names in people’s lives.
“Brooks,” Florentia said wistfully.
Charlotte’s heart stopped beating.
“Brooks?” Charlotte demanded. “Did you actually say …”
“Brooks,” the mystic returned. “Yes. Your cousin, correct?”
Charlotte jumped from her chair and blinked at the woman. “My cousin is called Brooks. Yes.”
“I suspect that he’s in grave danger,” Florentia whispered.
Charlotte pressed her hand over her chest. All the while, Florentia’s eyes seemed to scan the air above her head. The air buzzed with sinister tension.
“That’s impossible,” Charlotte affirmed. “My cousin Brooks is of prime health.”
“Regardless …” the mystic breathed, “He will die. Sooner, rather than later. It’s best you prepare yourself.”
Charlotte furrowed her brow.
No.
This was impossible.
What she’d heard was only a fluke, nothing more. A guess. She supposed there were many people called Brooks in the world.
The mystic knew nothing.
“I’ll inform Brooks of this the next time I see him,” Charlotte returned with a scoff. “After he’s assuredly come back from a wild hunt or is amid a raucous sport. He’s healthy, young, with a full life ahead of him. I’m sure we’ll both have a right laugh.”
Florentia squinted at her for what seemed like a full minute. Silence permeated the air between them. After a long pause, Charlotte’s eyes flashed towards the door.
“Do you have anything else to say?” she demanded. “Or have you only given me my cousin Brooks’ fate, rather than my own.”
Florentia cleared her throat. “Your cousin’s death will begin a series of trials and tribulations for you, dear girl. Danger lurks on every horizon. There is nowhere to go but through.”
“Madness,” Charlotte returned, scoffing.
Charlotte forced herself through the rest of the session. She found new ways to draw boundaries between herself and the raucous idiocy the woman crafted. When her time came to a close, Charlotte rushed for the door with her black curls swept out behind her.
“Send in the final girl,” Florentia called, her syllables lazy. “It was a pleasure, Charlotte. Truly, a pleasure.”
This time, Charlotte paused at the door and swung around, astonished that she hadn’t actually told the woman her first name. Of course, Louisa might have mentioned it during their session.
“Thank you again. I suppose I’ll see you at the end for payment,” Charlotte said coldly.
“Be a dear and shut the door behind you,” the mystic returned, her voice similarly flat.
