Epilogue
Spencer Hayes shot upright in bed, his heart racing. Almost as quickly, he collapsed back onto his pillow, realizing instantly that he had been having another nightmare and that he was safe in his home on Hanover Street in Otterbein. He couldn’t quite remember what the subject matter had been this time—a ship wreck, a funeral hosting a tiny casket, a crimson pool of blood on a white marble floor.
His hand shot out across the bed, but he was not at all surprised to find the space empty. With a sigh, he glanced across the room and pulled himself from beneath the sheets.
She was where he thought she would be, standing in only her nightgown over by the window rocking back and forth, the light of the moon illuminating her alabaster skin and radiating off her auburn hair like flecks
