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Same belief that God had personally spent extra time on her cheekbones.

Years ago, I used to give her fifty dollars on Sunday mornings just to leave the kitchen so Lakelyn and I could eat breakfast without commentary. She would take my money, disappear, then come back five minutes later asking if another twenty would make me less antisocial.

She reached into a side pocket of her bag and pulled out a small gold tube of lip gloss. After placing it carefully in the center of a glass vanity tray, she turned around and bent over her suitcase.

My attention settled on the tube.

I wondered how much control I actually had now.

Instead of overthinking it, I focused.

The same warm current I had felt upstairs gathered through me, stronger this time because I wasn’t fighting emotion along with it. I concentrated on the gloss until the tube trembled slightly, then I pushed.

It slid several inches across the counter and stopped beside the faucet.

Willow straightened with a handful of makeup sponges and reached toward the tray without paying attention. Her fingers closed around nothing.

She paused.

Her hand moved across the empty space again before she finally lowered her eyes.

The lip gloss sat beside the sink.

Willow frowned. “Now hold on. I know damn well I didn’t put you over there.”

She picked it up, returned it to the center of the tray, and tapped the cap twice with her index finger.

“Stay.”

I almost laughed.

Willow turned around again and started digging through her duffel bag for a blow dryer.

This time, moving the tube came easier.

I lifted it just enough to clear the marble and tucked it behind a decorative tissue box on the shelf.

Willow turned back around with the blow dryer in one hand and immediately reached for her gloss.

Nothing.

She checked the tray, then the sink. Her brows drew together as she patted the pockets of her shirt before actually inspecting the floor around her feet.

“Okay.”

Her voice had dropped noticeably.

She set the blow dryer down and slowly scanned the bathroom.

“Kaidence, if you’re playing with me, come out now!”

Silence.

Willow’s shoulders stiffened.

Then, instead of doing what a normal person would’ve done and leaving, she planted both hands on her hips and addressed the room.

“Look here, I don’t know if you a ghost, a spirit, or just some invisible somebody with too much free time, but I need you to understand something. That lip gloss cost thirty-four dollars before taxes! You move my Fenty again, and we gon’ have a theological problem up in here!”