After a moment, she says quietly, “It looks like it’s haunted.” I meet Q’s dark gaze in the rearview mirror. Then I look back at the house and suppress a shiver. Home sweet home. Where all the hungry goblins of my past lie in wait for my return. I slide my hand into my coat pocket, run my fingertips along the smooth lines of the pistol nestled there, and remind myself to keep breathing.
