The interesting thing about those stones—and the similar way that Mrs. Drinkwater pulled her tarot cards, not for a foretelling but more as a compass—let me hold different words in my consciousness, seeking to incorporate those aspects into my day.
When I carried a stone that represented gratitude, when I could finger it in my pocket and be reminded, then my day filled with gratitude.
Spyder’s use of sayings and quotes was similar, I guessed.
At the Chinese restaurant, we’d ask for our fortune cookies while we waited for our meal to be prepared. We worked on the assumption that this would be a message that the Universe conspired to provide us with.
We’d snap open the cookie and drag out the information—rather than prognostication. And we’d see what meaning we could find, what instruction I could use in how I comported myself that day.
I remember it vividly. Spyder had slipped my paper from my fingers and read the Confucius quote: Virtue is not left to stand alone. He who practices it will have neighbors.
He looked me in the eye for a long moment. “My job pulls me to a different location. I am not abandoning you. You are my priority.”
My heart had gripped. I didn’t want him to go to a “different location.” I wanted him there with me. At least until I got my feet underneath me after Mom died.
He passed me the fortune. “There are no insulated events in this world, Lexicon. Everything transpires as it should. This fortune, for example, is well-timed. Very suitable, wouldn’t you say?”
I frowned at him.
His eyes smiled back in his fatherly way. “Lexicon, this will serve as our code. When there are no other options, and you send me a message with these words, I will dismiss all other obligations and return to your side.” He paused. “I trust you will use the code wisely.”
I put it in my pocket and immediately forgot all about it.
Through the fire, the stalker, the kidnapping, the healing, the craziness…
Then at precisely the right time on exactly the right day, I was having lunch with a work acquaintance Leanne. I opened the fortune cookie, smoothing it out on the table. Virtue is not left to stand alone. He who practices it will have neighbors. And like the Good Witch waking Dorothy from her spell-sleep, I woke up. I remembered.
Leanne knew how to contact Spyder—of course, she did. Why hadn’t I considered that avenue before?
Spyder had actually come into town the night before to bring me along as he fought the Hydra.
Yeah, the serendipity of it all seemed magical.
So I had experienced this weird brain magic before—if I was inclined to paint this as esoteric.
I had been through these boxes hundreds of times.
Read every word on every page.
And yet, here was a journal I had never seen before, and when I opened it, this is what fell into my lap.
The confusing part was, why now?
Surely, it had to do with my sensing my parents’ concern.
“Row faster, Lexi!”
If only I knew where I could find a safe shore.
Chapter Thirty-Six
I sat there trying to remember. I was glad that Spyder was outside, giving me this space to adjust to the newly discovered information.
I was very young at the time, maybe four years old?
I was in the car with Dad. We were coming back from a picnic at one of my parent’s friends' houses. Mom drove there with me. But I had pitched a fit. I wanted to drive home with Dad. I remembered thinking I might be able to convince him to buy me an ice cream cone.
I remember the sound of brakes squealing—the sensation of being thrown forward. Of Dad yelling at me to sit very still, he’d be back.
Spyder walked in and sat down. “Are you ready?”
I nodded.
“Your mother was driving home from a party at Seth Toone’s home. It was his birthday. He celebrated it with his identical twin brother—”
“Vincent.”
“Precisely. Seth’s niece had run to the store for more sodas for the party. Her name was Molly, and she was seventeen.”
My lips went numb.
“As your mother drove, she passed out at the wheel. Her car veered into the oncoming lane, hitting Molly’s car in a head-on collision. Molly died on the scene. Your mother was rushed to the hospital. She was diagnosed with brain cancer.”
I nodded.
“Your father went to the funeral. He was…filled with grief. When Vincent saw your father, he lost control and beat him severely. Your father did nothing to protect or defend himself, and he was hospitalized. You might remember this time. You went to live with Snow Bird and Master Wang. You worked with them in their dry cleaners across the street. It was at this time that Master Wang began to teach you martial arts.”
My frown was so deep it felt weighted like it could pull me over.
“As your mother was in the hospital and they were trying to offer her a diagnosis and a path forward, the Wangs told your father that he would best take care of his wife and the back and forth to the hospital, and they would keep you until your mother was home from the hospital. You were having a great time at their home. So that’s what your dad did. It was an enormous help. This gave your father time to focus solely on your mom, and it gave him time to physically heal from the beating.”
“You were there?”
“I was.”
“And you allowed it?”
“If your father had wanted
