Which meant she either needed to see a shrink or to find out if some cursed psychic power she didn’t know existed ran in her family.The answer lay with Grammy Rose.Hannah’s fingers trembled as she punched in her grandmother’s phone number. Please let her be there, she prayed, her stomach lurching when the phone rang at least a half-dozen times.Finally, on the seventh ring, her grandmother answered. “Hello.”“Grammy?”“I said hello. Speak up now, my left ear’s full of dust. Herman Whitewall’s been plowing up my garden and I can’t see three feet in front of me or hear my own self think.”Hannah laughed. Her grandmother must be getting senile. Herman Whitewall had passed away three years ago. “Grammy, it’s me, Hannah.”“Oh, hello, dear. How was the wedding? I wanted to be there so badly but the doctor made me stay in bed with that cold, ’fraid I’d get pneumonia. I told him nothing could get this old lady down.”“I didn’t exactly get married, Grams.”“Really?”
