Close to Destiny (A Magical Love Story)

Chapter 24

April 4, early morning

I woke up with a start and threw back the comforter.

"Sam!" I cried out. "Sam! Where are you?"

I looked around in confusion. From what I could remember, we had been running through the halls together. That was it. The next thing I knew, I was sitting at the edge of the bed and narrowing my eyes to see 7:05 flashing on the alarm clock.

"Shit!"

I marched into the bathroom and stepped into a hot shower. As the droplets drummed against my back, I closed my eyes and went over the details of the previous night. Everything was extremely clear. It couldn't have been a dream. This was yet another one of the bizarre experiences linked to both Destiny and this hotel.

I thought back to our visit in her living room and then pushed it away. Nonsense. The whole story was a lot of baloney. If I kept thinking about it, I would start crying again. My problem was that whenever there was a question, I had to find an answer. Maybe there weren't always answers, and maybe I had to face that. Maybe I would never understand how Destiny had gotten that information about me.

I wrapped myself in a terrycloth robe and opened the door to grab the newspaper. If I wanted to return to a normal life, my best option would be to forget everything and go home. Follow Sam's advice. But I couldn't. I was my own worst enemy, and I knew it.

I flipped through the newspaper until a tiny headline in the lower right corner of the real estate section caught my eye.

The Grand East, Mysteries for Sale.

My eyes scanned the three-paragraph article that followed. An investor in the hotel was ready to cede a majority stake. The agency representing the property declined to name the owner or offer a reason for the sale. A quote from another real estate agent—likely bitter after losing out on the account—and the sentence that followed were what interested me the most.

"With all of the mysterious goings-on in that establishment, this might be a difficult sell," the agent said. "It's one of those secrets no one talks about, but everyone understands."

Indeed, hotel guests have complained about late-night music from the top floors and hushed whispers in the hallways. A hotel spokesman who declined to be identified said the only parties ever held are in the ballroom on the ground floor.

With the paper still in my hands, I sank onto the corner of the bed. Maybe there was more to this story than I had initially thought.

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