July 15, Monday

IT WAS more foggy than usual when I walked to the graveyard to unlock the gate. It had rained overnight, and the mist enveloped me past my tall leather boots. When I reached the graveyard, it looked as if it was boiling, with rolling wisps rising from the ground and licking at the gravestones. As I unlocked the gate, I heard a noise and startled to see a shrouded figure standing a few feet away in the road.

"Howdy," the woman said. She wore a broad-brim hat, a long sleeve tunic, and pants stuffed into rugged boots. She held a tall walking stick upright and carried a sling bag. "Who're you?"

"I'm Josephine," I ventured. "I'm staying at the Whisper House. Can I help you?"

She scoffed. "You need to help yourself."

"Excuse me?"

"That house is cursed. Bad things happen to people who stay there."

I had news for her—bad things had happened to me before I came to the house. "What do you mean?"

"You deaf girl? Bad things."

I frowned. "I heard you, I just don't believe you."

"Neither did Rose."

A finger of fear nudged the back of my neck. "You knew Rose?"

"I know everyone round these parts." The woman laughed, revealing she had no teeth. "I'm older than the trees."

And a little touched in the head, no doubt. "What's your name?"

"I'm Muriel. I'm a picker."

"I don't know what that is."

She opened her bag to show me it was full of green and brown things. "I pick leaves and berries and whatever else the Good Lord provides. Whisper Graveyard is one of the best places to find things because most people won't come near it."

I frowned. "Why not?"

"Because of the witches," she said bluntly.

My eyebrows flew up. "Witches?"

"The witches are buried here," she said. She walked into the graveyard, then used her stick to point to the graves covered with a sheet of granite. "Those two were so strong, they covered their graves with a stone so they couldn't get out."

A shudder passed over my shoulders. "That's folklore."

"Don't mean it ain't true," she said, then shuffled to the edge of the graveyard where she stooped to dig up something that looked like a weed. She stuffed it into her bag, then pointed at me again. "You've been warned, Missy."

I gave her a shaky smile, then backed out of there and practically jogged back to the house, looking over my shoulder.