He stared at her back, the slope of her narrow shoulders. “Why do you keep looking out the window?” He joined her, followed her empty gaze.
“It’s a mess.”
“Have you taken your meds?”
“Look at all these people, thrown about like broken dolls.”
“You’ve lost weight.” He pulled her to him, but she didn’t yield, just perched, stiff-limbed, on the windowsill.
“Remember how we wished for rain then? Remember how we wished for rain to take away the fire? Oh, how we craved for rain then, Connell!”
“I remember.” He brushed away the tangle of hair obscuring her face and took her hand.” But Raven, you can’t possibly think this is all your fault.”
“That’s what Daddy would say. He used to say I blame myself for too many things out of my control.”
“And he’s right. Come on, time for your daily magic.”
She let herself be pulled by him, then stopped. “I want….”
“Will you help me with something?”
“Will you wish for fire with me? This time, we won’t do anything. We’ll let it burn. Burn away all this water.” Her eyes were wide, shining. She gripped his hand too tightly.
“Raven.” He made sure she saw him – really saw him – before continuing. “Raven. Wishing for fire now isn’t going to bring your brother back, just like how wishing for rain then didn’t bring your father back.”
She stepped away from him. “You won’t help me. That’s okay. It’s my family, anyway. That’s okay.”
“Raven, I didn’t mean…”
“It’s okay. I’ll wish for fire on my own.” She returned to the windowsill, picked up the lighter resting on the ledge. He’d missed that.
“Raven, don’t!” He grasped her hands, letting the light clatter to the floor. “I’ll wish for fire with you. Fire. This time, we’ll let it burn.”