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"Rayze," I called out softly, unsure if he was still with me. "Look at this."
I heard his familiar voice in my mind. "What is it?"
I read the passage out loud, my voice trembling with excitement. "It talks about giving someone back what was taken. It says here about a ritual for someone who was murdered, to give them back their life temporarily."
There was a pause, then Rayze replied, his voice filled with a mixture of hope and disbelief. "Do you think it could work for me?"
I nodded, even though he couldn't see me. "I want to try, Rayze. If there's a chance, we have to take it."
The next morning, as soon as the occult shop opened, I was there. Rayze, invisible but ever-present, accompanied me. Walking through the aisles, I gathered the necessary supplies – candles, herbs, and a few rare items that the book listed.
The shopkeeper eyed me curiously as I piled the items on the counter. "Quite the selection you've got here," he remarked.
"Yeah, it's for a special project," I said, avoiding his gaze. I could feel Rayze's presence beside me, a comforting warmth against the chill of the morning.
I paid for the items, my heart pounding with a mix of anxiety and anticipation. This was it, our chance at something more, a temporary reprieve from the cruel hand fate had dealt us.
As I left the shop, bag in hand, I felt a surge of determination. We were going to do this, Rayze and I. We were going to defy the odds and seize this chance, however fleeting it might be.
Walking home, I could feel Rayze's excitement mirroring my own. "If this works..." he started.
"I know," I interrupted, a smile spreading across my face. "We'll have some time, real time together."
The possibility of having Rayze back, even for a short while, filled me with a joy I hadn't felt in what seemed like forever. It was a chance to live the life we should have had, a chance to make memories that would last a lifetime.
As I reached my apartment, I turned to where I felt Rayze's presence. "Let's do this, Rayze. Let's bring you back."
His reply was a soft whisper in my mind, filled with love and gratitude. "Let's do it, Rowan."
With the bag of supplies in hand, I stepped into my apartment, ready to embark on the most incredible journey of my life.
As soon as I stepped into the apartment, the tension hit me like a wall. Bel and Ali were in the middle of a heated argument, their voices raised in anger and frustration. The atmosphere was thick with emotion, each word loaded with hurt and accusation.
"Bel, please, just listen!" Ali pleaded, his expression a mix of exasperation and concern.
"I don't want to hear it, Ali! You're just as bad as her!" Bel shot back, her eyes blazing. She gestured wildly towards me, her anger palpable.
I felt Rayze's presence at the door, steadfast and protective. His unseen support was a small comfort in the chaos of the moment. I tried to intervene, to defuse the situation. "Bel, let's calm down and talk this out."
Bel rounded on me, her voice rising. "Talk? Like you did with your ghost boyfriend? You're both living in a fantasy world!"
Rayze's presence grew stronger, and suddenly, I felt him merge with me, his essence intertwining with mine. Through my voice, he spoke, "You're not alone, Rowan. And you never will be again."
The argument escalated, with Ali trying to calm Bel down, but she was beyond reason. Her accusations flew, each one laced with a deep-seated pain.
"Danny's dead, and no one fucking cares!" she screamed, tears streaming down her face.
Ali and I exchanged worried glances, trying to find a way to reach her through her grief. But Bel was lost in her hysteria, consumed by her belief that Danny was gone.
As we struggled to calm her, a noise from the door caught our attention. We all turned, and there, standing in the doorway, was Danny. He looked exhausted, bandages visible under the neckline of his shirt. His suitcase dropped to the floor with a thud, the sound echoing in the sudden silence.
Danny's eyes were wide with confusion and fatigue, his face pale and drawn. He looked like he'd been through hell and back. The sight of him was both shocking and relieving, a tangible answer to the fears and uncertainties that had plagued us.
The room was still, everyone frozen in place as they processed his sudden appearance. Danny's gaze moved slowly over each of us, taking in the scene before him. When he spoke, his voice was tired and bewildered.
"Who's dead?"
