Riden and Streva certainly knew their daughter better than Fisher did, though he was still reluctant to divulge all the details of Ita's father's death. "He started burning," Fisher said quietly, the words tasting bitter in his mouth. "Tht's where the fire started. After he fell, everything went up pretty quick. The women lit some other small fires, to make it look like an accident, but..." He trailed off. This was pretty terrible.
Ita was being stubborn and foolish and Fisher knew it. Her parents kenw it, too, but they were so proud of her they weren't sure what else to say. Ita would do as she pleased, and there wasn't anything they could do to stop her. Riden had loved and hated that about his little girl. She was a fighter, and fiercely loyal to those in need. But she didn't understand that sometimes, no matter how hard you fought, you weren't going to win.
"They don't know who it was," Fisher said again. "Your mom wants you not to waste your life looking, especially without any idea what to look for." He listened to Streva, nodding when appropriate. "Don't forget to be happy," he told Ita, looking back to her mother every now and again. "Don't let this eat up your life. We can't move on unless you can, too." Fisher shrugged, letting Ita absorb the information as needed. Most ghosts only wanted to cut loose the tie they had to the living world, and the best way to do that was through absolution, revenge or tyingt up loose ends with loved ones. Ita fell into the last category.