Her voice broke.

The glass moved again. This time I was sure I wasn’t doing it.

“Remy, you were dead. He was sure of it. Somehow he revived you and you might be different now or some things might be,” my aunt warned me with caution apparent in her voice.

The glass vibrated off the edge and broke into a thousand pieces. I immediately made the pieces come back together and after it reassembled, the glass was again on the nightstand. I did this so easily and so quickly it caught me off guard as usually it took a lot of concentration to move things.

“And there is something else. Maybe you should have a look for yourself.” She handed me a hand mirror. If it was a scar or something else, I could handle it. There would be ways to hide that and I was...

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