Saerian appeared where she'd been standing, arms crossed, cigarette hanging between his lips. He smiled at her, amiably, and behind him the forest where her family made their camp grew, tree trunks twisting and reaching up and up, ground beneath her feet becoming grass and dirt.
Her brothers appeared, too, incorporeal, ghostly.
"What is this? Phaedra Romani, this is your life?" she asked.
Saerian shook his head. "It's your death, if I have anything to do with it."
The demons who held her gripped harder. A bone in her arm popped. Phaedra's face twisted in pain.