I blew out a shaky breath and stared at the candle I'd replaced. The flame glowed in a red lantern. An old family tradition, Morgan once told me. His grandmother was from Poland, and as she was one of the few family members he'd spoken fondly of, I tried to honor the tradition as often as I could. "Who wouldn’t want a light to guide you home when you're lost?" he'd murmured with his kind grin. "If nothing else, it beats having wilted flowers on your grave."
