This time it read: [You're Jessica Sands, your husband's Mike Sands. You're here to celebrate your love.]
She knew us?
If she did, then when she said "he", she meant Mike!
My husband, plotting against me?!
I gasped, a cold dread slithering up my spine like a serpent.
What more did she know?
I gathered my courage, shaky hands and all, and pulled the door open to ask her directly.
But she had vanished!
I stuck my head out, scanning the hallway—nothing.
"Jess?"
It was Mike.
I slammed the door, my heart racing.
"What happened? Who was knocking?"
His hair was damp as he wiped it with a towel.
I dodged his look, my pulse racing. "Nothing, thought I heard something, probably just the wind."
"Should we grab a bite?" I deflected, settling back on the sofa, and cracking open the room service that had just arrived.
Our flight was early tomorrow.
After a week on the road, we were pretty beat, figured we'd just eat in tonight amidst the packing.
But I couldn't shake the old woman's words, and my appetite had vanished.
I just nibbled on some bread.
Mike, clearly hungrier, cleaned up the leftovers.
Everything seemed normal until...
Something's off!
One dish was a chilled beef salad sprinkled with green onions.