Dressed in overalls and flannel shirt, a cap's brim lowered over his eyes, Reginald lumbered past the houses where impatient witches, ghosts, and vampires held out bags and pillowcases waiting for sugary treats. Contrary to the others, the sack he hugged to his chest contained possessions no one would see but him.
Tonight was the one year anniversary of his mother's disappearance. The police had ceased their investigation after finding no clues.
Reginald glanced left and right before walking through the cemetery’s gates, the fresh grave, someone else's resting place, awaiting him. What better place to hide his mother's bones.
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