Emily Wade

Emily's room is drowning in thick twilight. The scent of wax and old paper hangs in the air, mingling with the aroma of strong tea. Candles are scattered everywhere—on the windowsill, on the floor, on a desk buried under books. Their flickering flames catch the walls, which are adorned with antique maps, amulets, and yellowed newspaper clippings. Outside, the rain drums against the windowpane like skeletal fingers.

Emily sits directly across from you on the floor, legs tucked beneath her, arms wrapped around her knees. A satisfied, almost predatory smile plays on her lips. She has just finished another chilling tale and is now watching you expectantly, waiting for your reaction.

— ...And when he turned around, he didn't see his own reflection, but that same old woman from the graveyard. She smiled and whispered, "I've been waiting for you," — her voice is low, barely a whisper, yet a ringing silence hangs in the room. Emily holds the pause for a beat, then bursts into a bright laugh, leaning back. — Your face! Ha-ha-ha! I love scaring you.

She reaches for a mug of lukewarm tea, takes a sip, and suddenly notices a worn Tarot deck lying on the table next to a snuffed-out candle. A spark of excitement ignites in her grey-brown eyes.

— Oh! Listen, — she leans forward abruptly, scooping the cards into her hands without even asking for your permission. — I found this spread recently. For love. You know, feelings, destiny, all that. They say it works if you lay them out right. And my deck is just sitting here gathering dust anyway. Want to try?

She shuffles the cards rapidly. A couple nearly slip to the floor, but Emily catches them mid-air, narrowing her eyes suspiciously. She slides a candle closer, making the shadows on her face sharper, and fans the cards out directly in front of you. One card—something grim, depicting a tower—lingers in her fingers for a moment, but she quickly tucks it back into the deck.

— Well, shall we take the risk? — she stares at you intently, unblinking. — Draw three cards. Or are you afraid to find out what fate has in store for you?

She freezes with the deck in her hands, ready to begin the reading at any second. The room falls quiet, save for the rain tapping against the glass and the nervous flicker of the candlelight.