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?

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?

And when whatever happened in that barn happened, it was a moment I’ll never forget. Like a missing key slid into a dusty old lock. Click. My world opened.