Chapter Twelve
Dear Scarlet,
Maybe there's no point writing to you anymore. Odds are you're gone for good. After last night's ghost hunt, or whatever you'd call it, I think Claire released you from the force that was binding you to this world.
If not, I hope this letter finds you well.
It's too bad Jason didn't come clean when we first met—about this being your house, I mean. Then I might have known earlier on who I was talking to.
You were Jason's Gram, right? His great-grandmother?
Your name wasn't Scarlet. I know that now. I don't know why I keep addressing you as Scarlet. I probably shouldn't. I'm guessing that's a title your husband bestowed upon you, yes? Scarlet Letter, Scarlet Woman. It's an insult.
I should call you Gram instead. You weren't my Gram, but I barely
