The Coldest Touch

She didn t know about the dead brother, not until she d already accepted the case. The death doesn t change her mission. Even so, seeing the stories in black and white makes something un­comfortable shift and knot inside her.

But there isn t time to care about the people in these photographs. She has a job to do.

So, she tries on an array of personalities. Becomes a dozen funhouse versions of herself until she forgets who she is inside. She ll wield her charm as a weapon and her smile as her shield.

And when she meets Photo Girl, when she sets eyes on this creature with hair the color of sunlight and eyes like the ocean, she will be ready. 

 

1

Elise

I don t belong here.

Though I ve visited three times in as many days, I still feel like an intruder as I maneuver through the tiny shop s narrow aisles. Heart & Stone Metaphysical is located in downtown Elmsbrook, where stores shorten their hours and sit mostly vacant while the local university is closed for the summer. I wish I d known about this place then. Now, in the early days of September, the shop is full. The new college students are only two years older than me, but it feels like a lifetime.

Their gazes linger as I pass shelves of carefully wrapped lies and impossible promises, like they know I m trespassing in their world of magic and make-­believe. The two white men who work here seem nice enough. Over the course of a few visits, I ve overheard enough conversations ­and asked enough questions ­to know they believe in the hope they re peddling.

So far, I ve avoided knowing their deaths.

In the center of the long, rectangular store, one of the men offers advice to a young woman looking for the best stones to banish unwanted attention at work. He rattles off a list of black rocks:tourmaline, onyx, and smoky quartz. He seems at home in this world of magic and make-­believe. He chose this life.

I was cursed into it.

At least, that s the only logical co