“I’ve never heard of him before now,” I say. I glance at Crane briefly. “Neither has he. Doesn’t sound like much of a legend.” “He hasn’t been seen in fifty years,” my mother says. “There were stories about him aplenty when I was growing up.” An odd look comes over her face. Her eyes seem brighter, like this whole thing excites her. “I’ll have to tell the Sisters.” Strange that she calls them the sisters and not her sisters. “Why?” Crane asks. “Because the horseman came from the direction of the school?” “Yes,” she says, pressing her hands together. “Perhaps you opened a window with your
...more
why is she so excited about a headless horseman killing people lmao
