The spirit's face was screwed up tight in a grimace,
his fingers knotted into the material of his shirt.
He wore a hooded black leather jacket over a white tee, faded jeans, and a pair of Converse.
"That's not Miguel," Maritza tried to whisper, but
she'd never had a very good inside voice.
Yadriel groaned and dragged a hand over his face.
On the bright side, he had actually summoned a real-life spirit.
On the not-so-bright side, he had summoned the
wrong one.