#19: never, under any circumstances, withhold or lie about a prediction
#21: if a member breaks an essential rule, they get a warning. two, a more severe warning. three, a two-week suspension. four, a month suspension. and five, expulsion from the clairvoyant club
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𝐂𝐎𝐃𝐘 was starting to suspect that this wasn't a fortune telling business, but some kind of cult.
She'd seen their advertisement while reading the newspaper to her senile grandmother, and being desperate, made an appointment. But now she was starting to regret calling them.
Sure, the decor was pretty cool. Pride flags? That was a good sign. And the girl who answered the phone seemed nice enough, but what kind of business had pink scented candles arranged in a pentagon on the table, the instrumental version of Taylor Swift's 'False God' playing in the background (not that she was complaining—this cult had good taste), and a can of fake blood set down by the door?
At least, she thought it was fake. The possibility that it might not have been made her slightly queasy. Oh, god. Maybe they lured gullible virgins into their attic and murdered them to summon Satan or the ghost of Christmas past or Taylor Swift in her Reputation era.
Or something.
The woman who had let her, Lavinia, had seemed nice enough, even offering her a chocolate chip cookie. She'd taken it, but was now regretting her decision. What if it had been filled with poison? Damn it, she knew that her adoration for chocolate would get her in trouble some day.
Footsteps. Shit, shit, shit. Perhaps she could make a quick getaway out the window—there was a large tree right next to the house, and a thick branch poked through the windowsill. Though that, too, had scented candles arranged artfully on the surface.
A boy entered just as the saxophone solo finished. He didn't do it slowly, like an ominous villain, but swiftly. Oh no. She had begun to make unintentional puns. What would Taylor say? Would her official swiftie licence be revoked or something?
