Read Dickens

Then the fire guttered again. When it returned to life, it was golden and merry, the way fire is supposed to be—and Mab was gone.
“Leave me!” I called quietly to the empty air where she’d been. “Take me back! Haunt me no longer!”
Mouse’s jaws dropped open in a grin.
“Seriously?” I said. “You’ve read A Christmas Carol?”
Thumpthumpthumpthump.
“Yeah, well,” I said. “Let’s get back to work.”

Battle Ground, Christmas Eve, Page 412