Okay, so this is a tad bit forced, but here is my response to Bookjourney's challenge:
The old woman leaned forward, the light from the fake crystal ball on the table cast horrendous shadows on her thin face. “Who Killed My Daughter?” she asked Lindsey.
“Umm.” When Lindsey had signed up to cover the fortune telling booth at the middle school’s annual Cirque du Freak she hadn’t expected to be asked a question like that one. She’d expected sixth grade girls asking about first kisses. Maybe an annoying seventh grade guy asking, "Why Can’t you Make Them Behave, King George?” or “Will You Sign Here, John Hancock?” while trying to get her to forge a parent’s signature for a failing test. Or asking about Killing Mr. Griffin, the meanest teacher at school. Lindsey had suffered through having two classes with him the year before herself. She’d even prepared a fake answer in case a slacker boy eighth grader asked How to Steal a Car. Boys were so immature.
The old woman was still staring at Lindsey. Was this woman kidding? Lindsey needed to do something to get this woman out of the booth quick. “I Am the Messenger!” Lindsey exclaimed, making sure to gesture wildly. Her drama teacher would be proud. “And I proclaim, that there is a Demon in My View preventing my sight. It stands In the Forest of the Night, blocking me from reaching the Greenwitch in The Forest of Hands and Teeth…which, ah, is, umm, where my answers usually come from.” Lindsey made a show of slumping her shoulders. “I am sorry. I cannot help you.”
The woman didn’t seem surprised by Lindsey’s response. “I had hoped you had The Third Eye or perhaps A Gift of Magic.”
Nope, only a gift for the dramatic. But Lindsey didn’t say that out loud. As she watched the old woman push herself out of the folding chair, Lindsey did hope the woman found an answer. Somewhere that wasn’t a middle school cafeteria.