She glanced down at herself. “It’s what they had in the Goodwill donations box. I didn’t manifest with clothes on. Do you have any idea how hard it is for naked people to go shopping?”

“I’ve never shopped naked,” I said.“I thought you were my Fetch. Aren’t you supposed to know these things?”

“Of course. I know everything there is to know about you, right up until the universe decided you were destined to die and created me to be your guide.”

“Everything?” I didn’t like the sound of that. There are some things I don’t want anyone to know.

“Everything. From what you got on your sixth birthday to what kind of flowers you leave on Dare’s grave. I even know what you were thinking about Tybalt after you saw him in those red leather pants—”

I held up my hand. “Stop. I believe you.”

“I thought you might.” She smirked, adding, “I didn’t even need to get detailed.”

“Trust me, I don’t want you to.” Raking my hair back with one hand, I gave her a long, hard look. It was like looking into a strange, hyperactive mirror. Your reflection doesn’t usually start to fidget and study its nails while you’re standing still.

“Why now?” I asked, finally.

May sobered, giving me the first serious look I’d seen from her. “I guess someone feels you’ve earned yourself some time to settle your affairs before you go. I’m your wake-up call. Don’t put anything off, because you may not be around that long.”

“I’m not ready to die!” I protested. My mind was racing. What was it going to be? Simon and Oleander coming back to finish what they’d started? Or something simpler, like a drunk driver who didn’t hit the brakes in time? There are a lot of ways to die, and I’d never really thought about them before. I was pretty sure I didn’t want to be thinking about them now.