Blowing out the candles was the only way I could answer him.
Lewis remembered everything. Once, during a quiet conversation, I had casually mentioned that when I was upset, the wind around me would react. It was one of the few things I could still control as a spirit. I had said it without thinking, never imagining he would hold on to that detail. But he did. He remembered that the wind moved when I was near. He remembered that flickering flames meant I was there. He stored every small thing I ever told him, even the words that seemed meaningless at the time. Now he was using that careful attention to search for me in the dark. I could only imagine how much pain he must have been hiding behind that calm voice.
