“Come on, it’ll be fun!” She sits across from me, hands face down on the dining table, head tilted to the side, shoulders raised with that silly smile I can never say no to.

“Fine.” I surrender and she claps, “Great, let’s go!”

“Now?!”

She looks sheepish, “I already made us an appointment.”

“Willa!” I give her the look. “How did you even know I would say yes?”

She grins, “I just knew.”

——–

We stand at a glass door with a large pyramid and the all seeing eye painted on the front, “Zoe Sanders: Psychic” is scrawled underneath.

I start to back pedal, “You know, I’m not feeling that well…”

“Lisa, come ON!” She pulls me by the wrist through the threshold and advises the receptionist we’re arrived for our appointment. She makes a joke about psychics needing receptionists and I give a small obliging smile.

“Lisa?” A voice escapes from behind beaded curtains hanging in the doorway to another room.

I get up and wait for Willa to join me, she looks at me weirdly, “They’re separate readings.”

“What?!” I huff and when she doesn’t go to move I part the beads and step through in to another small room with purple shades, casting coloured sunlight in to the corners of the walls.

“Have a seat.” Zoe tells me and I do, dropping my handbag next the leg of the chair.

She looks like any other normal person – I’m not sure why I expected differently.

“So, do you have anything specific you want to ask before I start?” She is shuffling a deck of tarot cards, but her eyes are focused on me.

I shake my head no.

“Well, there are only a few people here to see you.”

I glance around, then remember myself and feel inwardly stupid.

“My Nanna, is she here?”

She looks behind me, “No, not today.”

I bite my lip and feel my shoulders drop.

“Firstly, I have to tell you that, someone you value above all else is not what you think they are, and will not be what you want to make of them.” I immediately think of her. But, but, but; my mind fills with arguments.

“And your lies will soon be found out.” My thought process switches direction, to him. I watch it all come crumbling down in my mind.

“You will live your life out in the same place, you will not move forward, you will not succeed in anything you want to, you will never meet her, and this one is most true: you’ll become everything you worked so hard not to be. This is the price you must pay.” She doesn’t even notice that in the 5 minutes I’ve been here she has unraveled the last 26 years of my life.

I feel like all the blood in my veins has drained and pooled at my feet. Every word she says is another grenade in my chest.

I stop listening after a while, I let myself go numb.

This is the price you must pay.

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