Chapter 9

A soft rain fell that evening, the kind that soaked through clothes and **settled deep in your bones.** There were still a few months until **Qingming Festival,** but I **wouldn’t make it that far.** I had to visit Dad’s grave **now.** Row upon row of tombstones stretched across the mountainside. The place should have felt eerie, but it didn’t. **It felt familiar.** Because compared to ghosts, **human hearts are far more terrifying.** Raindrops pattered against the cold stone...