Pierce looked up, his gaze on the fire poker as he tried to figure out what it was. I couldn’t place the thin piece of hard plastic either, but I was sure I’d seen it before. “I don’t know,” he said simply. “It’s a sin to end one’s life, but judging Jenks by human or witch morality isn’t fair.”

“He loved her so much,” I said. “But he’s got his entire life. He might learn to love again. Maybe pixies marry for life because their lives are too short for second chances.”

Pierce rocked to the toes of his feet, still crouched before the fire. “Ask him what he wants.” His blue eyes flicked to Jenks, now snoring. “When he’s sober,” he added.

I looked at the slant of the sun, wondering how this day would end. “Am I being selfish?”

Not answering, Pierce went to the miniature carved statues of insects on the mantel. “These are beautiful,” he murmured. Even wearing a pixy buck’s trousers, long-sleeved shirt, gardening jacket, and hat, he didn’t look anything like a pixy Not only. was his hair not right, but he was too muscular. Feeling my eyes on him, he turned, his expression making my heart jump.

“Where do you suppose Matalina is?” I asked softly.

From behind us came Jenks’s dead-sounding voice. “She’s in our bedroom, pretending to be asleep.”

Warmth flooded my face, and I spun to see Jenks’s eyes open, watching us. “I’m sorry,” I said, realizing he was sober already. “I didn’t know you were awake. Jenks, are you okay?” Yes, it was dumb, but I didn’t know what else to say.

Jenks sat up, elbows on his knees and his head bowed as he held it. “My head hurts,” he said softly. “You shouldn’t have taken smut to help me. I’m already dead. My heart knows it, but my body won’t listen.”

Feeling awkward in my borrowed dress, I went to sit beside him. The sun was warm on my back as it came in through a circle of thick glass, but I felt cold inside. “What’s another layer of smut?” I said, believing it. “Jenks, I’m sorry if it sounds trite, but it’s going to be okay. It just takes time. Hundreds of people in Cincinnati lose the person they love every day. I survived losing Kisten. I—”

“Shut the hell up!” he shouted, and I drew my hand back. “It’s not going to be okay. You don’t understand. Everything I was ended with her. I loved her.”

My face warmed, and I couldn’t stop myself. “I don’t understand?” I said, my fear that he was going to die coming out as anger. “I don’t understand?” I stood, heart pounding. “How dare you tell me I don’t understand!”