I Fell in Love with Hope - Lancali

“The dead do not haunt, no matter how much you beg them to.”
“Sam?”
“Yes?”
“Why are you wandering the night with Neo’s books?”
“It’s complicated,” I say. “Neo never asks for anything. Salvaging his
stories is the least I can do.” Hikari asks with her eyes that I say
more. “His parents are here for his surgery. They don’t like his
books. Or his stories,” I explain. “They love him, I think, but-”
“But sometimes parents love the idea of their child more than the
person they are.”
A harsher edge of Hikari’s puzzle piece emerges. She stares at the
books, her fingers toying with the nightgown, bunching the material
near her thigh.
“That kind of love is suffocating.” Like fingers closing around a wrist.
“Why are you wandering the night on ledges,” Hikari. “Aren’t you
afraid you’ll fall?”
“Of course, I am,” she says. “But fear is just a large shadow with a
little spine.”
My fear snarls at that. It resents her, tugs me further by the rope,
possessive, but I pay it no mind. Her gravity is stronger.
“You’re a writer,” I breathe like I’ve found another treasure of the
world.
“More of a reader,” she says. “Hamlet was my worst influence.”
“Does reading make you happy?” I ask. I want to know all things that
bring her joy.