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shivers up my spine.
    “Yes, that Poirier house. It’s haunted—he’s haunted, and I don’t want you to go anywhere near him. He’ll darken your soul.”
    “Why’s he like that? Has he always been that way?”
    “No. He’s cursed, Levi. Cursed right down to the bone. The curse runs deep in his family, so deep it’s all folks around here remember about the Poiriers. The smart ones, anyway.”
    “So he was born into a cursed family?”
    “No. He was the one who brought the curse upon his family when he was just a boy, and that’s why it’s the darkest within him.”
    I leaned back in the chair, unease settling in my stomach. “What could a boy do that would curse him so deeply?”
    She didn’t want to answer. Her eyes, though unfocused, strayed from where she knew I sat. She turned her head and began playing with a fraying thread sticking out of the sofa cushion.
    My mama had never been passive about anything in her life. While she wasn’t exactly outspoken, she never strayed from telling us what she believed, especially if she thought it was something that could hurt my sister or me.
    “I’ll find out eventually, Mama,” I pressed. “This is a small town. People will talk. I hear things all the time at the diner.”
    Reluctantly she turned her head back toward me. “Stay away from him, Levi. If you value your soul, you’ll stay away from him.”
    “What did he do?”
    “He murdered his father.”
     
     
    THE BURNING fragrance of incense wafted through the air. Lilac, bark, and the natural, herbal smell from when something organic burned filled the room. Strange that smells like those, uncommon to most, brought a sense of lightness to my body, a reminder of warmth and home to my heart.
    The room was silent, as silent as a house as old as ours could be. Nothing moved or stirred. The sound of our own breathing was subdued. Even the small branches that often rapped against the window were silent.
    My mama and I sat in the room on the main floor that she used for readings. It was a small room, with wood-paneled walls and a small table in the center that was constantly littered in clutter. Posters and astrology charts lined the walls. Some were real, and some were for show. A tiny Buddha statue sat on the end of a dresser. It was black and shiny and had my mama’s initials carved into the underside. Silvi had seen it once, fallen deeply in love with its color, and insisted on giving it to Mama for Christmas a few years back. Mama loved the thing, even though Silvi, now older, thought it to be much too shiny for her tastes.
    Other figures lined the dresser next to it: a porcelain cat, a golden bell, a folded, ornately sewn handkerchief. Mama told me once that most first-time customers were surprised when they walked into that small room and didn’t see a crystal ball in the center of the table. I’d laughed and said I’d get her one for Christmas. She hadn’t found it very funny.
    Now when we sat in the room, though, the air was different, thicker, laced with something close to wariness. I’d told her about what happened two days before at the diner with Monroe, and how when he turned his cold eyes on me, I felt something in the pit of my stomach. She’d insisted on giving me a reading. She always said it was how she felt closest to me. I never had the heart to argue with her.
    “You’ve been exposed to something,” she’d said earlier that day.
    “Exposed to what?”
    “A curse. You’re a magnet for darkness, Levi. You know that. Being near that kind of evil can do nothing good for the soul. Let me do a reading on you.”
    “Mama—”
    “You know I’m right. You know it ain’t gonna get better all by itself.”
    She was right, of course. A soul wasn’t like a human body. It couldn’t kill infections the same way. A tainted soul stayed tainted, right up until the day you died—or the day the curse was lifted. It was usually the former.
    “Close your eyes,” she said now. When I did