Martin wasn’t the one who lived with those memories.
Martin would tell her there was no sense in agitating painful memories, that she should focus on the future, not the past. After all, the hallucinations were under control, and the nightmares grew less and less frequent with each passing year. She hadn’t told her psychologist about her plans. It was just an old house, for God’s sake. She was going to put those old demons to rest, once and for all. She swallowed hard, trying to banish the dryness in her throat. The car rounded a turn, and the house loomed into view through the trees. The branches stood bare and skeletal against the pale, cloudy sky. It was mid-November, and many of the trees had already lost their leaves. Any resemblance to living persons or events is merely coincidence.Ĭhapter One Gravel and dead leaves crunched under the tires as the gray car crept along a narrow, unpaved road.
All characters, events, and places are of the author’s imagination and not to be confused with fact. © copyright September 2008, Amanda Steiger Cover art by Eliza Black, © September, 2008 ISBN 978-1-60394-222-5 New Concepts Publishing Lake Park, GA 31636 This is a work of fiction.
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