Marc should’ve seen it coming.
When the bright-green spider landed on his shoulder a couple of days ago, its weightless presence burdened him with dread, then the guilt-ridden realization that his former wife, Maia, has left a previously neglected piece of herself in this house.
But then the spider was gone, the feeling along with it. That is, until he catches sight of the framed arachnid collection hanging on the wall above Bea’s head at dinner.
It was not supposed to be there.
The bright-green spider missing from the topmost rank would later slip out from Bea’s cold, dead lips.
Superstition: A falling spider that lands on you is an omen that someone close to you will die.