“Of his…death,” she whispered into the flashlight, and the boys hushed.
“She saw her fiancé everywhere,” she continued, pulling her hood so low it almost covered her eyes. “She’d run up to people in town, complete strangers, calling his name. Gradually, she became obsessed with the house that was still being built. People would catch her stroking the woodwork and stones. She would fall asleep on the hillside when it was still just a frame. Neighbors would wake her up in the morning and she wouldn’t say anything, just dust herself off and move off to look at the progress of her house. And when it was done, people said she walked into it as if she was in a trance or, really, like she was in love.”
James and his friends scoffed—“Yeah right.” “Uh-huh, suuuure!”—but his mom persisted. “She was even dressed all in white the day she entered the house, white veil and all. And then—” she paused for dramatic effect. “That same day, there was a terrible accident.”
James and his friends fell silent again.
“Neighbors heard her scream for Billy and rushed inside to find she had walked into her own giant fireplace. It was winter, so back then everyone had a fire going. She survived, but then she never left. No one ever saw her go in or out of the house, but sometimes she would pass in front of a window wearing a white veil over her face. Milk and groceries would be delivered to her porch and then disappear. Supposedly one delivery man tried to leave the groceries inside the door. Well, he never made it back out. And she never came out, either. No one who has ever tried to go in has come back out.” A final pause. “Alive, that is.”