Rita took the red shawl and helped Anna layer it over her head and face, leaving only her eyes uncovered. Anna bowed her head and breathed deeply, pulling in strength for the ordeal ahead. Shivers raced up Rita’s spine along with the memory of the time Anna had foreseen the impending death of her parents. The havoc, the tears, the manic phone calls to Romania. The utter futility, and then the depth of Anna’s unforgiving grief. Anna raised her head. “You know I need complete silence. No one must speak and break the spell. Understand?” “You don’t have to do this, Ma,” Rita blurted. “Ach. I am reluctant to look into the crystal ball again, but I must. I suffer a question that needs an answer now.” “Thank you for doing this, Anna.” Matt took Rita’s hand and led her to the chairs Uncle Dragus had pushed into the corner. She settled next to her uncle who sat as stiff as a stuffed bear, eyes glassy, his face devoid of expression. Anna’s chest rose and fell in a steady, deep rhythm.
