Page 43 of The Ghost and the Graveyard (Knight Games 1)
"She doesn't even know me."
"She says she does, from when you were a baby."
"Wow, my father and I lived in Red Grove when I was born, but I don't remember living here. We moved before I was two."
"You made an impression."
The way he said it made me squirm in my seat. Why was I so memorable to Prudence? "You never answered my question about why you ended up in my attic in the first place."
The sigh he emitted was also unnecessary for any purpose other than letting me know he didn't want to answer my question. "There are some things in life that happen when they're supposed to happen. I'm not supposed to talk to you about this now. Prudence says I can't. It wouldn't be right."
"But Logan, now I know you and Prudence have a secret from me. Can't you give me a hint?"
Rubbing his chin, he considered me in silence for some time. "I warned you to stay away from the caretaker. You didn't."
I sighed. "Why does it matter? Rick seems like a perfectly nice guy."
"Do you know what a caretaker is, Grateful?"
"I think so. He's someone who maintains the cemetery."
My ghost looked disappointed. "I think you have a lot to learn about Red Grove." He frowned. "Don't get involved with the caretaker until you figure it out."
"What does my involvement with Rick have to do with anything? Are you afraid I'll tell him about you?"
"It's not what you tell him."
"Aargh!" I slapped my forehead in frustration. "You're not making any sense."
"Maybe not." His face turned serious. "I'm sorry. This was supposed to be fun. A date." He smiled. "Let's start again. Tell me why you've moved to Red Grove."
"Ugh. It's a long, sad story. Believe me, we'd be better off talking about Prudence."
"Hey, all I've got is time...I think. And since I have few memories of my own, I'd enjoy hearing yours. Unless, of course, you'd like a play by play of my dusting."
I pressed a finger into my lips, eyes darting around the room. I craned my neck to eyeball the living room. "You cleaned today."
"Yes."
"The whole house?"
"Yes," he said, smiling sheepishly. "I saw your note in the dust on the dresser upstairs. 'Clean me.'"
I leaned forward pressing my hand into my chest. "That note was a reminder for me! I thought you slept during the day."
"I did for a little while, but I knew you would appreciate the help."
"I do. I really, really do," I said emphatically.
"So, pay me back. Tell me how you ended up here." Elbow on the table, he leaned his head into his hand.
I gave him the condensed version. "I'm broke. My dad is letting me stay here for free. Sure, it's a commute, but I don't really have a choice."
"The first night I met you, you were wearing scrubs and answered the phone for St. John's Hospital. You're a nurse, right?"
I nodded.
"If you have a job, why are you broke?"
