Chapter 4
A VOICE AT MY BACK said, “Wednesday? What's happening here?”
I spun around to see my aunt in the doorway. In her hands, she held a tray carrying three coffee cups and a pack of Timbits.
“I'm sorry,” I said, as if my grandmother's death were somehow my fault. Why did I feel like that was true? Especially when, as far as I could tell, I'd just snatched her eternal soul out of the devil's clutches?
Auntie Anna rushed over, setting the coffee tray on the bedside table. “What happened? What's wrong?”
“I don't know,” I answered. “I think she's dead.”
My aunt's jaw swung open. She looked scandalized, at first. She shook that off pretty quickly, and then did exactly what I had done: rested her cheek above my grandmother's mouth to sense any signs of breath.
“Ma?” she whis
