Chapter 8
Mt. Greenwoods wasn’t mountainous. The city and most of the surrounding area was built in a river basin, not lending itself to extreme heights. Also, not particularly woody. It was a cemetery. Trees were nice enough, gave a bit of shade and cut off the monotony a little, but tree roots, Beau knew, tree roots were particularly bad for coffins and grave sites. So there weren’t very many of those either.
Green, though. There was an adjective that fit. Everything was green. Grass was green, the bushes were green, hell even some of the gravestones were green, older ones and prey to a sort of creeping lichen that scrawled itself like natural graffiti over statues of angels and white marble benches and engraved headstones.
For that matter, Vin was a little bit green.
“You okay, babe
