In Irina's Cards (The Variant Conspiracy #1) Read Online Free Page A

or burning up more money on another night here.” He stood. “Be sure to let the front desk know you’re staying another night. The room is yours as long as you need it. Enjoy your day.” He walked away abruptly.
    The crepes arrived, although my grandmotherly waitress was gone, replaced by a weary blonde who might have been pretty if not for a glum expression and the bags under her eyes. I smiled, thanked her, and stared at the plate of food as she walked away. Should I call the cops on this guy, Rubin? What would I report? Did he have anything to do with my visions?
    I knew I wasn’t really scared. The instinct to run should have dominated me. I felt only curiosity about Chinatown. And a strong urge to eat. I shook my head and relented. One soft, fluffy bite after another made me feel more and more at ease.
    A few more motel guests took seats around me. The pedestrian traffic outside picked up with the start of the workday. I watched as an elderly lady inched along behind an aluminum walker, passed easily by a balding man in a trench coat and a brunette woman with immaculate, bold make-up and a beige suit.
    A girl around my age tromped past clinging to the straps of her backpack with both hands. She wore dark skinny jeans under an intricately embroidered trendy skateboarding hoodie. She bounced along as though flitting off to a coffee date with a painfully cool hipster crowd. She belonged in the city, probably had an apartment, probably halfway through a reputable degree. I could hear Darryl’s voice asking when I would find something ‘to do’ and get on with my life. His words were never angry or loud, just laced with disappointment and frustration. I gulped down the rest of my orange juice, signed the slip the waitress had left to charge the meal to my room, and then slung my bag over my shoulder.
    I walked out of the restaurant into the lobby and hesitated. Crazy street guy did have a point. I knew I’d stay at least one more night, so I stopped at the front desk and let them know.
    The sidewalk outside had filled with people. I felt claustrophobic for a moment and seized the opportunity to sit on an empty bench in an alcove outside an office building next door to the motel. I looked up to clear my head. Clouds rolled across the sky quickly, remaking the ceiling of the world before my eyes in mere moments. It reminded me of the time Mom took Gemma and me camping at 100 Mile House, a popular resort. We’d stopped for the night on our way south to drop Gemma off at the University of British Columbia. Darryl hadn’t been able to get time off work, so it was the three of us–as Mom said, ‘just us girls.’
    We spent a few hours after dinner on an August afternoon sunning ourselves on a large flat rock that jutted out over Lac La Hache. The clouds rushed over our heads as though a wind turbine propelled them. But, the air stayed relatively calm and warm–a magical weather combination. When we lost the light, Mom started our campfire and we made s’mores. We talked about nothing and boys and frenemies. We giggled and gushed. For some stupid reason I chose our rare bonding session as a moment to ask Mom about the start of her relationship with Darryl.
    “Why did you and Darryl get married when I was a baby? He couldn’t have been an obvious family man.” I’d opened an old wound, not even thinking the topic through to its conclusion. I stopped short of adding, Wasn’t it obvious he didn’t want to raise someone else’s child?
    I remember the look on Mom’s face. Her smile dropped and she looked at the campfire thoughtfully. “I got pregnant with Gemma.” She let a moment of silence pass. This revelation had occurred to me before, but it hadn’t been said out loud. Gemma’s confused expression suggested she had not considered this dynamic.
    “Darryl does love you girls. Both of you. We use the word ‘surprise’ not ‘accident’ when we talk about my second pregnancy. We hadn’t been dating for