adows, a ghost haunting the fringe

h stab of pain. The town was struggling, the envir

ed in red tape, contingent on the town fully

a skeletal monument to their suff

t heard in years sur

nalist, and, though I didn't know it the

d like a figure from a

on the town's battered community board, promised one th

to be

living under an assumed name in a town

for the story to be told, and that my presence

on, a simmering resentment that still felt aimed squarely at

-mortem judgment on the Sarah

whispers, the his

hash al

who's t

r girl, goo

on the stage, looking older, more stoo

nfidence that made my stomach churn. She even offered a sympat

pped to the podium. He was an older man, his frame surprising

egan. "You have suffered. You have been m

ckered to li

ves looking at the past, at events you thought you understood. Think of this," he gestured to

with anticipation

no longer around Veronica, his face etch

ler," Mr. Finch said, and my

but I felt his words

low murmur of their

nds together, my

truth, or anoth

it was th