The hat was lucky, of that I was sure. For starters, it had been rediscovered. Two days after my grandmother’s funeral, right there in the attic, tucked away in some forgotten box. All those years wasted slumbering away, yet when…

They think I killed my husband. That’s why they’re here. I knew it long before I saw them. I don’t have to even look, I can sense it. But I look anyways. From behind the lace curtain, I watch as…