Fate - Jennifer Baljko

At the market, Matthias laid his spindly fingers on Misery’s shoulder. “You have the look of your mother,” he cackled. “And, grandmother. It’s in your eyes.”

Misery turned with a start, dropping the potatoes from her basket. Her coal black eyes stared directly into the old man’s fiery eyes, shaded a tint of roasted pumpkin before changing back to a more normal blue spruce. She shivered.

Matthias tried to stroke the long locks of her hair hanging over her sweater. “It’s the same color as hers. Of all the women I knew, your grandmother was the only one who had the hue of dusk.” For a second, Matthias looked years younger as a small almost barely unnoticeable smile crept up his creased face.

Misery jumped back, both repulsed and excited. “Who are you? Do I know you? I’ve seen you before.” She knew this man held a secret, a key Misery needed to open her life. Her head told her to run. Her gut forced her stay still.

“You’ll want to know more. It’s your fate,” he hinted. “Not now. Soon. Very soon.”

Matthias pulled his coat tighter and drifted into the crowd. Misery wanted to follow him, but a flash of light blinded her view. A woman, the angelic form haunting Misery’s dreams, stood in her way. “Go home,” she ordered. Misery fainted, hitting her head on the ground before completely passing out.