Under cover of night, Kensei crouched in the crook of the tree across from the Alvarez home and peered through the orange and yellow leaves. In her right hand, she held her onenju and thumbed through the beads while mentally chanting the nembutsu. In her ear, the chatter of police droned on. The neighborhood surprised Kensei as much as Sabrina's car. This was a poorer neighborhood than the one where Kensei's family lived. The spirits looked starved, unloved, frayed around the edges. The way Sabrina dressed, she didn't seem like she struggled. Kensei wondered how Sabrina got her money.

Kensei had left home just after dinner and arrived at seven, but an hour later there was still no sign of Sabrina. Instead, she got to watch the blue flickering light of the television wash over the faces of t...

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