My house was dark. Deep shadows sliced over the floor, new furniture made the rooms feel as if I were a stranger in my own home. Laughter softened behind me, the closing french doors quieting my coven as they bid farewell to a night of scandal. A crisp click of the latch. I was alone.
I remained in the entryway, transfixed by the house before me, feeling senses sharpened from years of practice of haunted houses. I knew I'd stood like this in a sorcerer's house the night I died and lost Railey.
And now I remembered what had led to that decision.