‘Were you having one of your visions?’ Natalie asks.
Cassie nods.
‘Was it about me?’
‘No, not you.’
‘Who, who? Tell me.’
Cassie laughs. ‘It’s stupid. I thought I saw Peter Garret being blamed for burning down houses.’
‘Rock star turned arsonist. That is weird. Did you bring your cards?’
‘No,’ Cassie says. ‘I knew it would be too dark to read.’
In truth, she has one card, flat in her inside jacket pocket. The card she’d drawn for herself before she’d slipped out of her bedroom window. The Knight of Pentacles: rescuer, solid, dependable. She touches the outline of the card and looks into the darkness for Paulo.
She takes a swig of beer, the frothy yeast foreign tasting. ‘Blah, I don’t like beer.’ She takes another mouthful.
‘And yet, you drink it anyway! That’s dedication to the pa
