The candles surrounded the coffee table almost perfectly, and the black candle sat directly in the center beside the wine bottle. Combined with the terrible apartment lighting, the whole thing felt less like cozy self-care and more like we were about to summon tax demons.
I rummaged through the shopping bag again.
“Why is there chalk in here?”
Nina looked up.
“There’s chalk?”
I pulled out a short piece of metallic gold chalk still wrapped in brown paper.
“The weird shop gave me free gifts.”
“That sentence keeps getting worse.”
The chalk had a label tied around it.
RITUAL GRADE.
“That's not a real thing,” I said.
“Neither is ritual grade.”
“Exactly.”
I tossed the wrapper aside and twirled the chalk between my fingers.
“Maybe they expect customer feedback.”
“You are not writing a review for occult supplies.”
“Depends how possessed I get.”
With nothing better to do, I crouched beside the candles and drew a rough circle around the coffee table.
Nina glared at the circle hard enough that I started wondering if she was trying to erase it with her eyes.
“Okay, now it definitely looks demonic.”
“It’s called atmosphere,” I said defensively.
“It’s called evidence.”
Nina grabbed her phone and held it up toward me. “Smile. This picture is going to look incredible during the investigation.”
“Can you at least wait until after I become possessed?”
“I like being prepared.”
I rolled my eyes and reached for the lighter sitting near the kitchen counter. The first candle lit easily, then the second. Warm light spread through the apartment while shadows drifted lazily across the walls.
Against all logic, it was kind of amazing.
“I hate that this is working,” Nina admitted.
“Exactly. Thank you.”
The vanilla smell grew stronger with every candle I lit. By the seventh one, the apartment smelled less like a home and more like a bakery with unresolved trauma. Thunder rumbled somewhere outside.
