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not like what happens."
    I powdered my nose and cheeks, keeping an eye on her and those black claws via the mirror. "I'll keep that in mind."
    She kept wiping at her face until the tissue packet was empty, and then she pouted at her reflection. "I look like what the cat spits up."
    "No, you don't," I said with a smirk. "I've seen what my cat Jeffrey hacks up, usually into one of my shoes if he can make it there in time, and you look much nicer than what I had to rinse out of my penny loafers yesterday."
    "I will go home," she announced with a sadness that tore at my heart. The scrubbed-red streaks around her eyes made her look like she'd been crying.
    I picked up my masquerade mask and held it out to her. "You can't go home before midnight. Not on New Year's Eve. I'm not really a mask person, so I'm actually done with this for the night."
    She held her hands to her chest, hesitant to accept my gift.
    "This practically belongs on you," I said. "The purple and green match your outfit perfectly, and look at me—I'm dressed like a zebra. Take it. I insist."
    She fixed her golden eyes on mine. "We will trade. I take your gift, and you take mine."
    "Sure," I said, because it was easier to accept whatever trinket she had than continue to stand in the washroom of the Fox and Hound arguing with her.
    She accepted my mask and slipped it on. It fit her perfectly and made her whole multilayered purple and green outfit come to life.
    I started backing away, toward the door. It struck me as strange that, on the busiest night of the year, not another soul had come in to use the washroom. Had Voula cast some witchy spell to give us this moment? Just as I was puzzling over the idea, the door banged open and a cluster of women came in all at once, laughing as they made beelines for the stalls.
    Voula was suddenly in front of me, pressing something into my hand—a business card.
    "You will come see me tomorrow at noon," she said. "I will return your beautiful favor."
    "No, you don't need to do that. The mask was only a few dollars, and I was done with it anyway. You don't need to give me a free… um… whatever it is you do."
    "Tomorrow is New Year's Day. All the stores are closed. You have no plans for noon. Don't argue with Voula Varga. You will come see me, and I will help your heart."
    "My heart?"
    She leaned in close, filling my nostrils with her spicy perfume, and whispered in my ear, "I will help your heart, yes. To take away your anger, for you to get over Christopher."
    My breath caught in my throat.
    Voula pulled away, and with a swirl of her layered skirts and shawls, she was gone, leaving me standing in the washroom of the Fox and Hound with my mouth open, wondering how the heck she knew that my spider-phobic ex-fiancé was named Christopher.

Chapter 5

January 1st
    The first morning of the new year, I awoke with a weight on my chest. It wasn't anxiety, though. Just a gray cat, lightly touching his wet nose to my chin and mouth.
    "Good morning," I said with a crackly voice.
    He pulled his head back in reaction to my morning breath and quickly retreated, flicking his long gray tail as he jumped off the bed.
    "Let that be a lesson to you," I called after him. "Stick your nose where it doesn't belong and you might get something you don't want, like halitosis."
    He slipped out the partly open bedroom door just as Jessica appeared. She had her long red hair plaited into a single braid resting on one shoulder, and she looked crisp and casual in dark jeans and a blue turtleneck that matched her eyes.
    "Want your breakfast in here?" she asked. "Maybe on a tray?"
    I sniffed the air, detecting cinnamon and fresh coffee.
    "Breakfast in bed? Jessica, you should sleep over more often." I sniffed again, detecting something else—bacon. "Is that bacon?" She nodded. "Forget sleeping over. You should move in."
    She laughed and shook her head. "I'm an early riser during the winter months, and that's when I bake. I drive roommates crazy. I won't