Chapter 16: Furniture
Cass is waiting for me. His eyes are flame and his hands ice.
Behind him, Ange whirls across a patterned carpet in a pool of light, laughing. She looks younger, healthier. And much, much happier than I’ve ever seen her.
Around the perimeter of the carpet there are just a few simple but curiously elegant pieces of wooden furniture. A chair, all sharp, clean angles. A small table, the lovingly oiled grain gleaming. A spindly standing lamp—the source of the light. An open shelf, holding just a few boxy, unfamiliar objects.
There’s also music—faint, intricate, and equally unfamiliar.
I can barely hear it out here in the darkness. Out on the edge of the horizon where Ange’s ghosts wait. Cass isn’t the only one here. He’s just the only one I recognize.
He visits my ni
