Page 30 of Dark Shadows

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Page 30 of Dark Shadows

“You didn’t know,” he said, cutting her off gently. “None of us did.”

An officer stepped up beside them. “Mr. Granger? We’ll need you at the station to give a formal statement.”

Bill nodded, his expression hollow. He turned to Savanah one last time.

“Take care of yourself,” he said. “And I don’t know. Welcome home, I guess.”

He followed the officer down the driveway without looking back.

Savanah stood still with her arms wrapped around herself. The front door creaked behind her, but no one called her name. For the first time since arriving, she had a moment to breathe.

Across the street, something flickered in the corner of her eye.

A figure stood among the gravestones, just beyond the gate. It was a young woman in an old-fashioned dress, her features faint and blurred like a reflection on water. She didn’t move. Just watched.

Savanah blinked, but the apparition remained.

Without thinking, Savanah crossed the street, drawn to the familiar pull of the dead. The cemetery was quiet, but as she stepped past the gates, more spirits began to appear, flickering into view between the headstones like memories she hadn’t asked to see.

One of them stood near the old maple tree. Mrs. Hawkins. While alive, the woman used to give Savanah candy during visits to her grandson’s grave.

Savanah’s voice came out soft. “Mrs. Hawkins?”

The ghost met her gaze, but her expression stayed cold. Without a word, she turned away and faded.

The others followed. One by one, they vanished.

Savanah’s chest tightened. They weren’t just gone. They were ignoring her. Punishing her for leaving them behind.

“Wait. Please.”

The words came out quiet, but no one answered. No flicker. No sign. The ghosts were gone, and they weren’t coming back.

The air had turned colder, not from the breeze but something else.

Her instincts prickled. She wasn’t alone.

Savanah turned slowly, scanning the headstones. The hairs on her arms stood up. Shadows shifted between trees and stones. She couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was watching her again.

The tombstones had felt bigger when she was young. Now they seemed small, neglected. Most names were half-worn and forgotten.

The ghosts in the cemetery were the only ones who had ever understood her.

And even they were turning their backs.

A warm hand touched her arm.

She gasped and spun around.

“Whoa. Easy,” Mason said. “It's just me.”

She pressed a hand to her chest. “Jesus, Mason. You scared the hell out of me. For a guy who hunts killers, your survival instincts suck. Sneaking up on a jumpy woman in a cemetery is how people end up as ghosts.”

His brows pulled tight. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. Are you all right? You look like you've seen a ghost.”

A dry laugh slipped out. “You have no idea. Between the dead watching me and the living stalking me, I should start charging admission. Maybe get one of those tour guide flags.”

Mason's lips twitched. “Ghost tours with Savanah Miles. I'd pay for that.”