I prop my head on an elbow. “What did Henek say?” “That Max should let it go, because you were never going to forget the other one, Izio, and that Max can’t fight a ghost.” Helena looks up. “I don’t know what that part means. About fighting a ghost. How would you fight a ghost?” “I don’t know, Hela,” I whisper. I think of that kiss on the forehead. The one that wasn’t fatherly. Or brotherly. And didn’t make me think of Izio. I told myself I wouldn’t love anyone. Not again. Not during a war. It’s too hard. But maybe there’s no way to help it.
