Chapter ONE - Weebly

deserted lane, onto Hollis Street, and then onto Clough.
They skirted the edge of the Common, following a
narrow country lane toward the Granary and King’s
Chapel. Pell said nothing, and Ethan thought it best to
follow his example.
At this hour the lanes of Boston were far less
crowded than when Sephira’s men had forced him into
their carriage. Still, the few people who were abroad
stared at him as the sheriff marched him past. A few
gave him a second, closer look.
Ethan’s side ached when he inhaled, his head hurt
from where Sephira’s man had kicked him, and his
shoulder throbbed. He had been bloodied and beaten
more in the past few days than at any time since the
beatings he had been given upon arriving at the
plantation in Barbados so many years ago. It hadn’t
escaped him that every time he learned something new,
something that moved him closer to discovering the
identity of Jennifer Berson’s killer, Sephira showed up
to threaten him, or that ghostly little girl confronted him
in the streets around his home. He knew this was no
mere coincidence.