CHAPTER 14
I climb from the car and into the chill of dawn, the fog wrapping the world in a gray haze reminiscent of the tendrils of smoke from the cottage—has it only been two days? My heart squeezes at the thought, but the cold against my skin centers me and keeps any lingering threads of panic at bay.
The storage facility is the only thing in this parking lot. The landscape to our left is a long, flat tract of cemetery, gravestones pockmarking the weedy grass. I head that way, my flip-flops making a wet thwick-thwick sound against the blacktop.
“Where are ye going?” Rooster calls. “Ye didn’t get enough digging for dead bodies this week, lass?” His voice echoes against the squat gray building, almost invisible in the foggy morning, and bounces back against my eardrums like the crow of
