Chapter 10: Funeral Shadows

When we reached my uncle’s house, dusk had settled in. The yard was filled with folding chairs, the faint scent of lilies, and a heap of funeral offerings—yellow paper, candles, paper figures, horses, and carriages. Neighbors clustered in small knots, whispering about omens, their faces pinched with worry.

The twilight made everything look strange—shadows from flickering candles, the paper horses bobbing in the breeze, their colors garish and out of place. It felt like stepping into someone else’s nightmare.

I froze at the edge of the porch, the charm burning in my pocket. Panic gripped my chest. I wondered if I’d ever feel safe again.