And just like that, as quickly as she appeared, she vanishes. The candle flame flickers, and no matter how close I bring it to my face, I can no longer see Luca anywhere. It’s as if she became one with the fire, and thinking about it, that would make perfect sense. After all, she said she was a spirit of fire.
I try to return to my reading with no success. My eyes keep darting from the pages to the flame, hoping to see her again, hopping or fluttering back onto my lap. Possibly several hours pass—too many—and my eyes only jump from one word to another. Witch, Blood Wraith, death, ghost. That last one grabs my attention a bit more, as the revelation that ghosts do indeed exist—and aren’t just made-up tales parents tell their children to scare them—unnerves me.
Who knows if I wasn’t right
