Chapter 3

That night, I couldn't sleep.

Can ghosts even get insomnia? I honestly didn't know. I just couldn't drift off.

I lay in my little patch of earth, staring up at the cold stone above me, my mind flooded with thoughts.

I thought about growing up with David; how he used to carry me home when we were kids, how he protected me for twenty years, how he showed up that last time, wanting to say something but never did.

I thought about what Lincoln said at my grave today—how he called me a stand-in, a tool, a pawn.

I thought…