“Edward McClanahan,” he said, gesturing out the window ahead of us. “They’re moving his body, Em.” I saw the small digger and that the excavation had already begun, but there were no workers with the rain right now. Just a pile of dirt and a blue tarp over the hole. “Family wants him safe and sound inside their new tomb,” he told me. “They’re hoping the town will forget the dead girl, and in all likelihood, it probably will. Out of sight, out of mind.” I clasped my hands in my lap, only half-listening. “Every year, those arrogant little losers make their pilgrimage here like they’re going to
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