Unconsciously, Nadia chewed on her bottom lip. She recalled the last time Maryann had visited her. It was autumn, a little over a year ago. The leaves on the trees had just completed their transformation from vibrant green to reds, golds and orange.” I remember your last reading, Maryann. The Knight of Swords was no more than a blip on the screen at that time, someone who came in and out of your life in a most inconsequential way.”

 

“Well, he’s a whole lot more consequential now,” Maryann moaned.

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