I've been dead over seventy years and still when I hear a woman scream, I find myself standing, listening, wanting to help and unable to do anything except watch.

I realized my sorrow, the regret of a restless, doomed spirit, rang in my voice. For the first time I wondered if my fate was to helplessly watch violence until I became as mad as the men who committed the murders.

So you know you're a ghost?" I looked at my hands; they were transparent and glowed faintly. "Can you think of another explanation?

She had refused to draw the monster. She feared to give him form.

By the time it was over, we knew the dead were the lucky ones.

Fill me in on the details of your life.”“I thought you didn’t give a shit.”“It’ll give me something to do while I wait for you to stab me to death.

I didn't burn down anyone’s house! I didn’t. I wouldn’t!”Maddie looked at Jacob.“You know I wouldn’t. I didn’t kill you when I had the chance!

The thing that hunts me now thrives on terror. My terror. I fear he will come for me. I fear he will come for anyone who knows me.

Oh, God. Not again.”Not again? “Do you make a habit of driving into people’s houses?