Page 136 of Espíritu

“Can you fix it?” he asked.

“We can,” Lita said. “But not alone.”

Julian hovered as Lita began setting up a circle in the living room, her hands moving quickly and deliberately. The room smelled of herbs, smoke, and urgency. Shadows drew long in the corners.

Yadriel stepped in beside her, picking up bowls and candles without being asked.

Maritza followed close behind, already pulling out the copal and muttering under her breath, “Of course this happens in the middle of the night.”

When she was ready, Lita turned to the others. “We must do a recuperación del alma—”

“A soul retrieval?” Flaca asked, her voice barely steady. “You’re serious?”

“Sí,” Lita said firmly, standing to address them all. “His soul is wandering, lost. It’s the only way to bring his spirit back to his body,” she told them. “Si no actuamos pronto, puede irse demasiado lejos.”

Rocky crossed her arms tightly over her chest. “Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s do it.”

“It needs anchors,” Lita continued. “People he loves.”

Julian’s chest squeezed. “His family,” he said quietly.

Yadriel looked at Julian, then back to Lita. “We’ll use his friends,” he said. “They’re the strongest tether he has.”

Lita nodded. “Yes.”

Julian glanced back at Flaca, Omar, and Rocky. They stood crowded by the couch, watching Luca’s limp form with fear in their eyes.

Julian turned to his friends. His voice shook, but he didn’t hide. “You guys in?”

“Obviously,” Flaca said immediately, stepping forward.

“Let’s just save him,” Omar added, glancing once more at Luca.

Rocky nodded curtly, her voice serious. “Yeah. I got him.”

Julian nodded. “Okay.”

He turned back just as Yadriel began placing the last of the supplies. He looked up and met Julian’s gaze. “I’ll guide them,” he offered. “You focus on Luca.”

Maritza set the censer. “Listen up. Anchors—” She pointed at Omar, Flaca, and Rocky. “Pick one memory that’s only his. Hold it and don’t let go. Breathe with me—in four, hold two, out six. When Lita cues, say his name. Do not follow any whispers. Keep your eyes on Luca.”

Lita handed out the ritual items as Yadriel called out placements. “Omar—al sur. South. Take the bowl of water.”

Omar took the bowl with both hands and knelt stiffly by Luca’s feet.

“Rocky, east. Candle.”

“Got it,” she said, flicking on the wick with a lighter she produced from her hoodie pocket.

“Flaca—west. Incense.”

The smoky copal curled from the small bowl in her hands as she knelt down, her brows furrowed in concentration.

Julian was already kneeling at the north point, holding a bowl of salt. He wanted to shake Luca awake. He held the salt instead. It was grounding. Solid. Real.

Lita took her place beside Luca again. Her voice dropped to a current. “Don’t call him with fear. Call him with love.”

Maritza paced the circle once, checking each anchor’s breath. “Good. Hold the picture of him in your head. We’re calling Luca home.”