The Heiress

by Rachel Hawkins

Ruby is probably laughing at us down there in hell.

you can put miles and mountains between you and home, but eventually, home will call you back.

And if you can’t tell the truth at the end of it all, then what, I ask, is the fucking point?

As I said, darling, I was twenty. Truly my only excuse.

A haunted house where the ghosts hadn’t had the courtesy to die yet.