After approximately an hour of explaining what the heck had happened to a shaken Divya and Rosanna, I crashed into bed, a vortex of snores. It was the weekend, and I slept until Saturday afternoon, getting over twelve hours of shuteye. Rosanna suppressed her curiosity until she could no longer bear it and poked me awake at half past one.
I groaned, drool on my pillow.
"You slept like you were hibernating. I can't take it anymore. Tell me more." She bounced onto the mattress beside me.
I rubbed my eyes of sleep-grit. "I already told you everything. I don't know anymore."
"But you have to. Are the Orishas real?"
"Apparently. And Ochún's supposed to be a hippie," I said, recalling the Orisha of water we'd gifted last month.
Rosanna's green eyes widened. "What about la Llorona?" she said.
I shrugged. "I think so. I mean, the gods are real, and there are werewolves, and vampires, so I'm guessing ghosts exist."
