ears ago on Widow's Pe
hen rangers declared him dead, buryin
t, the back door creake
re
in dirt, radiating a preternatural chill
whispered, "That is not your father,"
aged pages filled with warnings, and a chilling pho
n what looked like blood, screamed
ld sha
was
hen who was she, the woman who r
e chilling 'Hollow Man' in my living room to the twisted truth of my famil