H. Escape

“You know, it’s been so hard without him around. I’m not a supastitious person so my friends basically forced me to come here, they said you could help me make contact. ”

Harry Hoodeen leans his head back, takes a shallow breath, and closes his eyes. Catherine fidgets, her butt cheeks march in place on her chair. She entitles herself to a healthy investigation of the cards spread across the table. She hopes the curious mix of witches, spirits, and shadows hold the key to her mystery.

Harry opens his eyes, then lowers his head. He stares a thousand miles into the distance. This is his escape attempt. Catherine follows suit, trying to see what he can see.

He gives up and shrugs his shoulders, “I don’t know.”

She juts her head forward and shows her teeth, no longer hiding the hyena.

“How can you not frickin know? I hired you so you could reach him for me, it’s not like I can frickin text him or anything. Use ya stupid cards here to.reach him. I paid you to frickin help me now help me or I’m gunna frickin flip your fruity little table over.”

“Ma’am, I tell fortunes. I use those cards to predict the future. I can’t get you in contact with a random guy who grinded on you for five seconds and then disappeared.”

“But all my friends said he was like a ghost, how else am I supposed to reach him?”

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