I really thought we’d hit peak emotional chaos with the “throw your grief into the holy fire” night.
Apparently not.
“Shadows and Lanterns,” Lira said, twirling a strand of my hair as she pinned it up. “My favorite of the Twelve.”
“Of course it is,” I said. “Why wouldn’t your favorite be ‘we invite our dead feelings to dance’ night.”
She grinned in the mirror. “It’s not just grief,” she said. “It’s remembrance. The realm lets us see who we miss. Only for a moment. Only in light and shadow. But sometimes that’s enough.”
I stared at her reflection. “Define ‘see,’” I said. “Like memory see, or full-on ghost see? If someone puts out a tray of my husband appetizers tonight, I am not responsible for my actions.”
“You’ll see,” she said, annoyingly mysterious. “Trust the lanterns.”
“Hard pa
