It wasn't until the wraith came to claim him, shattering his arm, that my brother finally felt a shred of remorse. He knelt on the floor, weeping and begging for my forgiveness. In my last life, in his desperate haste to share a night of passion with a younger student—a natural-born spiritual beacon—my brother, Hank, had taken the family’s Warding Amber. When the vengeful spirits came for us, I called him for help. My sister-in-law and my little niece were saved. But his precious student, Monica, was consumed by the wraith and died. Hank had calmly collected her hair tie, assuring me everything was fine. Then, on the day my sister-in-law gave birth, he pushed me off a cliff. “If you hadn’t called me back, Monica would still be alive! You owe me a life for a life!” Now, my eyes snapped open again. The lights in the villa flickered and died, and the gurgling, sinister laughter of a wraith echoed through the halls.
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