Margaret said determinedly, “always just a little too full of herself.” She looked over at her daughter. “I wish I had known how those girls treated you.” Mary smiled and rolled her eyes. “Mom, that was over ten years ago, I’ve recovered, believe me,” she said. “Besides, it was one of the coolest nights of my life. I mean, how often does a person actually get to see and talk to a ghost?” “Well, I don’t like the fact that you put your life at risk, going to that cemetery in the middle of the night,” Timothy grumbled. “Why if I had known—” “Sorry, Da, but Ma’s given me a free pass on this one,” Mary replied. “You can’t give me a hard time about it.” “You never told us,” Sean said. “You kept that story to yourself all these years. Why?” Shrugging, Mary studied the flame in the jack o’lantern for a moment and then turned to her brother. “I don’t know,” she said. “Partly, I guess because I figured I’d get in trouble if I told.”
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