CHAPTER EIGHT
“Father’s buried over there,” Gracie told us as she pointed to the far middle of the plots where the low fence met the wall of an adjoining house.
Gerty nodded at the stone shed. “And we saw that. . .that thing behind the shed.”
Ben set a hand on Gracie’s shoulders. “Stay here a moment while I go see if it’s still there.”
He slipped around her and into the graveyard. I hurried after him and couldn’t help but shudder as a cold chill fell over me. “This place doesn’t feel right.”
Ben’s face was grim as his eyes darted over every shadow. “No, it doesn’t.”
He slowed his pace to a crawl as we approached the shed, and I couldn’t help but notice that he reached into his vest. A shimmer of a sharp blade reflected the sun as Ben stretched his neck out while his eyes scoure
