Hair like jet black silk, her white shapeless gown flowing in the autumn breeze. A thick fog hangs in the air, blanketing the forest that has now gone preternaturally silent. She stands with her back to me, unsettling, a small mercy that I cannot see her face.
I remember Nan's words, repeating them like a mantra in my mind.
_Do not look them in the eyes, and do not answer their calls - no matt...
