Harold lumbered past the houses where impatient witches, ghosts, and vampires had visited the previous night seeking treats to fill their bags. His sack contained possessions no one would see but him. Eyes and ears on alert, he continued his journey.
Tonight was the one year plus one day anniversary of his mother's disappearance. The police ceased their investigation after finding no clues. They now considered the woman a runaway.
Harold approached the cemetery, the fresh grave, someone else's resting place, awaiting him. What better place to hide his mother's bones.
Harold grinned.
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