Immaculate Heart by Camille Deangelis

hand. “I’m going to read your palm.” She pressed my fingers open and gently squeezed the base of my thumb. “Tell me something.”
    â€œAnything.”
    â€œD’you have a girlfriend?”
    I’d known this would come up somehow, but I still couldn’t answer without hesitation. “No,” I said.
    She traced her forefinger along my life line, and considered it. “Did you love her?”
    What kind of man would I be, if I said no? “I think so.”
    â€œThen you did the right thing.”
    â€œAre you reading that off my hand?”
    We looked up from my palm at the same time. “I don’t have to,” she said, and we kept looking. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d wanted someone like this.
    â€œNext time you come,” she went on, “you can tell me everything Tess and Orla told you. Then I’ll tell you my part.”
    â€œWe don’t have to,” I said. “Not unless you want to.”
    â€œIt’s the reason you came, isn’t it?”
    I’d all but forgotten why I was here, and she knew it. I gave in to the urge to paper it over. “They said you saw her first,” I said.
    â€œThey do say that.”
    â€œDo you remember it? The first time it happened?”
    â€œI do,” she said. “I remember it well.”
    â€œCan you tell me about it?”
    Síle looked beyond me now, as if the past were reconfiguring itself just over my right shoulder. “They wanted people to think that I was the one who saw Her the clearest and that maybe I’d even convinced them of things that weren’t there. But I wasn’t the only one to see Her,” she said softly. “I wasn’t, and I’ll tell you how I know. After a certain point, Tess started going up to the hill by herself. She thought none of us knew, and I don’t know, maybe Orla never guessed. They were drifting, by that point.”
    â€œShe didn’t tell me she went up by herself,” I said. I liked Tess—had always liked her. I didn’t want to think of her misleading me.
    When Síle refocused her eyes, it was like she could read my thoughts scrolling across my forehead. “I wouldn’t think any less of her. Haven’t you ever forgotten anything on purpose?”
    We just looked at each other. “Maybe I have,” I said.
    She rose to her feet. “You don’t have much time.”
    â€œIs that on my palm, too?”
    She laughed. “I meant time left in your visit. He’ll be knocking in a minute.”
    â€œWill they let me come again?”
    â€œOh, Martin and I have an understanding,” she replied airily. “Dr. Kiely never lets on, but she lets him do as he thinks best.” Síle smiled then, a luminous smile, as if she’d swallowed the moon for breakfast. She’d flashed me that smile many times before.
    â€œI’m sorry about your sister,” she said softly. “I’ve been wanting to say it since you first walked in, but I just couldn’t bring myself to it.” Síle reached out a pale hand as if to touch my chest, but she didn’t. “Sometimes I pretend she’s alive as ever, and I can’t see her only because we’ve gone our separate ways.”
    I looked at the floorboards. “Thanks,” I said. “That’s … very kind of you. To think of her.”
    â€œI remember that day so clearly. I’ve always remembered her. How we laughed and laughed together. How I wished she lived here, so I could have her for a real friend.” Brona’s words came back to me: no one ever knew what to make of her.
    â€œThat might have been the happiest day of her life,” I said, and the truth of it set my skin to prickling. “The happiest day, thanks to you.” Another smile shone out of that lovely face, and I let it eclipse the memory of Mallory in the little white casket, Mallory in the