The fire crackled and popped, illuminating the room with cheery sparks – some were amber colored, others red like newly-picked cherries. They were all beautiful.

“Why would you want to go to such extents?” he asked, staring at the page. “Why would you die for someone?”

I felt my chest constrict at the question.

“You don’t think it’s right?”

Raine looked at me quizzically, thinking of an answer. “No, I don’t. I guess I’ve never felt that way before.”

“If I knew it’d save someone like my father, I’d give up a hand or a leg or whatever was needed any day,” I told him, trying to keep my eyes on the flames inside the fireplace.

“I can’t really relate to that,” Raine said, tracing the border of the page boredly with his finger. “I can’t remember the last time I did something willingly for my father.”

“He can’t be that bad,” I offered, but then I caught the look he was sending me. “Okay…I might be wrong.”

Raine diverted his attention back to the book.

“You have no idea.”