Adela gives a frustrated sigh and plops down onto the pillows, furrowing her brow. "Let me think, M'iho Stroi. It's not so easy keeping things straight with all these other noisy creatures. Almost makes me sorry for you."
"Almost," she says again for emphasis as she looks out the window. "I was a listener too, you know. Not so much like you--you are truly the flame that attracts too many moths. But I talked with the dead, even before I was dead myself. Those who call it a gift are full of shit, no? "
The old woman gives Stroi a weary glance and pats the bed. "I know, I know. My turn for the soap. Come, child," she says tiredly, "Lie down. Let's call a truce, shall we?"
As a peace offering Adela removes herself from the bed, leaving it smoothed and perfectly remade with the top turned down invitingly. She stands next to the bedside table and holds a finger to her lips making a soft shushing noise until the room is almost silent, not completely but the few spirits who are still chattering have quietened to a low hum.
Her eyes twinkle a bit as she crosses her arms and gives a shrug, "They still talk to me too, and sometimes a few of them still listen," she says with a reassuring smile. "What do you say, desgraciado? Have a rest, dream a little dream. I'll see you there and we can have a nice chat between just us without all these looky-loos."
Maya's grandmother looks directly at Stroi and waits for his answer after she whispers in earnest, "She will need your help, Mihai. He's come back. You really are my last hope to save her."