Bound by Voices
From behind her, Adrian muttered without looking up from his book, “Both, probably.”
She turned. “You’re not even going to look at the magical rose miracle?”
He flipped a page. “Last time I checked something you called a miracle, we spent three days exorcising a mirror.”
“Okay, but this one smells nice.”
“Mira.”
“Fine, fine. No spontaneous flower worship.”
She pulled herself back inside, grinning. “You have to admit, though — it’s kind of romantic.”
Adrian glanced up at her finally. “A haunted winter garden.”