In our dorm, she opens her desk drawer and removes an ornate wooden box with gold-leafed edges. She takes out a scarf. Wrapped inside is a tarot deck.
“You read cards? My aunt does too.”
Donna winks. “Anika taught me. We haven’t given up all magic.” She hands me the deck. I’ve never had my cards read and hadn’t planned on it, but after all my talk of magic, it seems kind of lame to back out. Tarot cards frighten me. What if I don’t want to know the future?
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