The white noise of anxiety and guilt reverberating in the background of her life died and went silent. Fortified by its calming balm, Carrie rang Ann just to hear her stepmother’s voice, and they talked about her dad’s health and curtain fabric and where Carrie was spending Christmas, while Cathy Ross dripped ectoplasm down the chimney breast behind her and the serial killer from the woods made himself at home under her feet.
