The woman remained silent for a moment as she observed the young girl with sad eyes—the one recommended by an old acquaintance, another woman with the Gift of seeing through the Universal Weave; not in the same way as she did, but beyond the obvious.
The boy watched them from behind the railing bars.
The silence was broken by a sweet voice that seemed to plead for help:
"So, ma'am, are you telling me that I should end my relationship with him because a star forbids it?"
The woman pursed her lips, making a face at how poorly the young girl had summarized her advice.
"Look, in your Birth Chart, you have a very powerful fixed star, Fomalhaut—just as the Astrologer told you. This star appears very rarely; I've only had one other client in my entire life with Fomalhaut, and to be honest, I don't specialize in those topics."
"What happened to the other one, ma'am?"
She thought for a moment before deciding to continue the story.
"That girl, like you, suspected something was wrong. She had lived through a tragedy years ago, during her honeymoon. She and her husband were walking along the shore until they reached a romantic seaside restaurant. When they heard the melody playing inside, her husband took her in his arms, and they started dancing by the ocean's edge. Their feet splashed in the water that kissed the sand, and suddenly, a massive wave surged from the sea, like a frog's tongue, to swallow them whole.
My client told me that the sea devoured them, and as the current dragged her through the depths, she could only think of her mother, who had recently suffered a series of minor heart attacks and depended entirely on her—financially and in every other way. My client knew that if she died, her mother would die too. She prayed. She begged God to save her life, to let her live so she could care for her mother. She promised to be better, to be kinder than ever, to dedicate herself to charity, to give herself to the church, to the religious community. She offered everything if only God would let her continue and take care of her mother.
She lost consciousness as she pleaded for her life. When she woke up, she had been spat out by the sea onto a deserted beach, the calm waves gently lapping at her body under the silvery glow of the moon's reflection. Her husband, almost unrecognizable from being tossed and dragged underwater, was found days later—thanks to me, I must confess—partially devoured by crustaceans on a tourist beach during a moonless dawn.
Years later, something else happened. A suitor proposed to her at a restaurant, its terrace perched over the ocean. The musicians played a beautiful love song, and after she accepted and he slipped the ring onto her finger, the whole crowd applauded warmly. Then they returned to their dinner, and everything began to unfold like a horror movie.
Her fiancé choked on a fishbone and died in her arms, thrashing in desperation, as the full moon peered suspiciously through the windows."
"The moon kills them..."
"No, no, sweetheart. A powerful, ancient entity gains strength at night, along the shores, fueled by love songs and the glow of moonlight reflecting on the water—the so-called Silver Thread."
The lights in the house seemed to dim. The boy clenched his small hands around the bars, pressing his forehead against the railing, while the flame of the woman's candle flared brighter.
"But why?"
"Fomalhaut is a fixed star that appears to those who, in past lives, swore eternal love and lifelong companionship. But souls do not always reincarnate together. One lover's soul may remain in the ether, waiting for their beloved's life to end so they can realign in future rebirths. During this waiting period, the soul watches over and protects their soulmate, but like any lover, it suffers the agony of jealousy, seeing their beloved enjoy the pleasures of the heart with another. Any surge in power, they seize to eliminate their rivals in love, and in some cases, without hesitation, they take the life of their beloved—so that in death, their synchronicity is restored, and together they walk through lifetimes, side by side, basking in their eternal devotion."
"That's terrible!"
"..."
"What should I do, ma'am?"
"Calm down, my dear. This too shall pass. You just need to wait for things to settle and avoid being near the ocean. Your lover's spirit only gains strength in romantic settings, with love songs playing and when the moon casts its shimmer over the waves."
The young woman, after silently weeping, absentmindedly spinning her ring between her fingers, pulled out an envelope of money and extended it to her.
The boy practically snatched it as she turned back to the woman.
"The Astrologer told me that you appear—or rather, that you find everything. Is that true?"
"Yes. I can find what is lost."
"Ma'am, I haven't lost... anything. Or maybe I have. But I need to find a solution. I love him, and I don't want to lose him to a ghost."
A clap of thunder rumbled outside.
The woman turned toward the dining room window, the one facing the backyard. Footsteps sounded above them, as if someone upstairs was getting ready to leave. By the back wall, a brown cat hissed and bolted away, screeching as it ran.
The woman poured hibiscus water and asked for a photo of her beloved and the engagement ring.
Forty-five minutes later, both exhausted, they said their goodbyes. She left the house, completely shaken.
A VW Caribe, old and dirty, with its hood propped open, stood sentinel as she departed. Along the path, where she walked, wild grass pushed through the cracks in the cobblestones.
Outside, an unmarked police car watched the house, taking notes on the girl's departure. From the window, the boy observed them in silence.