“ My eyes meet his and I understand exactly what he's saying. He's my person. He's my home. ”
What is your secret? What could you possibly know, more than 80 years after you death, that someone doesn't want us to find out?
~ Jennifer Walkup
The blank sheet stares up at me, its emptiness like a slap. Those were the last words Ginny ever wrote before she and her family were murdered.
I look away, but we've caught each other. And I know this wasn't just a ghost story to him, even if it was to the others.
Did you mean what you said before? About the dead hanging around? You really believe it?
