I do not believe in ghosts. That's the first thing people usually want to know, after I tell them about the-things-that-happened-that-one-summer. I'm a vegetarian and I sometimes attend sweaty yoga classes, but for the most part, I'm not superstitious. I'm a reporter. I like facts. I get down with climate change, Inspector General reports, and the pill. So let's pretend that the-things-that-happened can somehow be explained by warming weather, coincidence, and a yet-unnamed mystery particle that straddles the border between matter and anti-matter.
Or, you can just say I'm crazy. But I'm not, really. Probably.
The story takes place in my former childhood home, where my sister and I spent [...]