1

The candles flickered, casting long, trembling shadows across the table. The smoke from incense curled up into the air, a sweet, heavy scent mixing with the cold light of my laptop screen. The chat was buzzing. Names, questions, desperate messages flashing at me in real-time. I let my gaze wander over the cards before me, running my fingertips over the smooth paper. The camera was perfectly positioned, a tight focus on the tarot deck, my hands—manicured, painted matte black—and the dark cloth covering the table. Atmosphere was everything. And I was damn good at creating it.

"Alright," I said softly, my voice low and almost hypnotic. "Let's see what the cards say for Emily."

The message stood out immediately, amidst all the others, because it hit the right tone. Urgent. Vulnerable. Lost. The kind of message that made the game so easy for me. My eyes flicked to the camera.

"Emily asked me if she should give her ex a second chance."

I paused just long enough for the viewers to connect with her. "But the real question is: does she really want an answer, or is she just hoping the cards will tell her what she wants to hear?"

The chat exploded.

"Omg, so true!"

"She just wants confirmation!"

"Girl, ditch the guy!"

I suppressed a smile and drew three cards. I slowly flipped over the first one. The Tower. Perfect. My face shifted—a tiny hesitation, a barely noticeable raise of the eyebrows. Nothing exaggerated, just enough to sow unease.

"This is... interesting," I leaned in closer to the camera, letting my gaze sweep across the screen as though I could feel Emily's tension through the words. "The Tower represents sudden upheaval. Chaos. Collapse. I see... pain."

I tapped my index finger lightly on the card. "This relationship wasn't stable. It never will be. And if you try to rebuild it..." I revealed the second card. The Ten of Swords. A soft intake of breath, as if I were surprised myself.

"Emily..." It was almost laughable how easily the script was writing itself. A broken heart, betrayal, the ultimate ending. I could bet she was sitting right there, hands clenched around her phone, her heart pounding faster than it had a minute ago.

The third card. The Moon. Perfect.

"This confirms it," I murmured. "Lies. Secrets. Things hidden in the dark. Emily, I don't know what your ex told you, but..." I lifted my eyes, locking them into the camera for a moment. "Be careful."

Dead silence in the chat. Then—a flood of messages.

"OMG, that fits so well!"

"I knew it!!"

"Holy shit, Emily, you have to listen to her!"

I pretended to look for Emily's response. Of course, she hadn't written anything. Not yet. She was probably too busy just breathing.

"I hope that helps," I said gently. Then a smile. Warm, compassionate. Pure bullshit. I let the chat run for a few more seconds, giving people time to put their awe into words. Then, with a slow motion, I brought my hands together and tilted my head slightly toward the camera.

"Thank you for being here tonight," I said. "Remember: the universe speaks. You just have to listen."

A click, and the stream was over.

The silence was almost uncomfortable. The hum of my laptop, the distant buzz of the city outside. I stretched my fingers, leaned back in my chair, and shook the tension from my shoulders. Then I opened my messages. There it was. Emily's DM, sent seconds after the stream.

"Oh my god, Claire. I'm a wreck. That was so spot on. I don't know what to do. Please, please, can you tell me more? I'll pay you too."

A grin tugged at my mouth. Of course, she'd pay. They all did, eventually. I took my time, reading her message a few times. Then clicked "Delete." As if it had never been there.

The night had one of those slow-flowing qualities, where everything felt a little heavier, a little slower, like the world had drunk too much. I lay stretched out on my sofa, one hand on my stomach, the other casually clutching my phone. The screen glowed bluish into the darkness as my thumb slowly scrolled through messages. Messages from strangers who thought I could predict their future.

"Oh my god, Claire. You were so right. He cheated on me."

"I don't know what to do. Please tell me if it will get better."

"I put everything on your reading... and now my account is empty. What do I do now?"

I stifled a chuckle. People were fascinating. They had such a desperate need for control that they willingly handed it all over to a pile of cards. Or, well—me. A knock on the door.

"It's open!" I called, not moving. The door creaked slightly, then footsteps, light, confident.

"Tell me, could you stop lying around in total darkness? It's like a damn horror movie."

Ella.

She flopped onto the couch next to me without an invitation, snatched one of my tarot cards from the table, and held it up to the light.

"So, how many lives did you ruin today?" she asked, grinning.

I snorted. "Oh, just the usual few souls. Business is good."

Ella was one of the few people I didn't need to put on a halo for. She knew exactly what I was doing—and didn't mind one bit. Probably because she had the same moral compass as me. None.

I took the card from her hand. The Fool. Fitting.

"You wanna see something cool?" I asked.

She raised an eyebrow. "Are you even asking? Always."

I unlocked my phone, pulled up one of my older streams.

"Okay, watch this."

The video started with me, speaking in a calm, serious voice, laying cards on the table.

"Here we have The Hanged Man," said my on-screen self. "Stagnation. Waiting. But... sometimes it also means someone has to sacrifice."

I tapped the screen. "Now, watch the chat."

Ella leaned in. Amidst the comments, one message kept repeating.

"Omg, that fits so well."

"I feel exactly that way right now!"

"What if it means I have to let go?!"

I fast-forwarded the video a few minutes. "Now I'm telling them to open themselves to what the universe has in store."

The comments changed.

"I think I have to give him another chance!"

"This is the sign I've been waiting for!"

"Thank you, Claire, you're an angel!"

I let the video run, leaned back, and watched as Ella recognized the magic. It wasn't magic in the mystical sense. It was psychology. Pure manipulation.

"Get it?" I asked casually.

"I barely say anything specific. They fill in the blanks themselves."

Ella laughed. "Damn, that's genius. My mom used to do that all the time!"

"Yeah, right?" I took a sip of my cold tea. "Sometimes I put a little extra thought in their heads. Just to see what happens."

She gave me a curious look. "Like what?"

I opened another message.

"Here. This one's from last week. She said she was thinking about quitting her job but was scared."

I played the voice message I'd sent her back then. My own voice, warm, understanding:

"Sometimes fear keeps us stuck in places where we no longer belong. But the universe shows you signs—maybe it's time to let go."

I stopped the recording and scrolled to her most recent message.

"I quit!! I hope it was the right decision. I'm kind of panicking lol."

I grinned and looked at Ella. She whistled softly. "Holy shit."

"Yep." I shrugged. "She was going to make the decision anyway. I just gave her the final little push."

Ella stared at me for a moment, then laughed. "Okay, that's a little evil."

I shrugged again. "She'll be fine."

"And what about the others? Bet you have people who give up more than just a job, huh?"

I pushed my phone aside, stretching my arms overhead. "Of course. Some lose their money, some lose their relationships... a few are completely wrecked afterward."

Ella bit her lip, as if weighing whether to find it disturbing or brilliant. But the two aren't necessarily mutually exclusive, right?

I turned to her, grinning. "And the best part? They always come back."

"Because they believe you're the only one who can help them."

"Exactly."

Ella sank back into the cushions, a thoughtful glint in her eyes. "You know, Claire, I've always thought you were clever, but this? This is fucking next level."

I smirked, took another tarot card, and casually spun it between my fingers.

The Devil.

I had to laugh. Sometimes, the cards really did seem to know what they were doing.