Ivan barely nodded.
After I went upstairs and found Antonia out of the bath, dressed, lying on her bed with a book, and seeing nothing at her window, I met Ivan outside.
The cold air caught me off guard. The house had been pleasantly warm and I craved the heat.
Ivan offered me a cigar. I took it and put it between my lips. “Lighter?” I said, between clenched teeth.
“Watch,” he said and blew on the end of his cigar.
The end burned orange-red.
Before I could respond, he did the same to mine.
“Part of the transformation?” I asked, watching the cigars burn in the dark.
He shrugged but didn’t explain, and we stared at each other over our first inhales. The cigar tasted bitter yet savory, like salt mixed with dark chocolate, causing the air around us to take on a licorice-cocoa scent. Th
