Under_The_Whispering_Door_by_TJ_Klune

“Hush,” Hugo said. “Don’t let them hear you say that. They’re very
sensitive.”
“You’re out of your mind.”
“I prefer to think of myself as eccentric.” His smile returned. “At least
that’s what the people in town think of me. Some even believe this place is
haunted.” He laughed to himself. Wallace was never one for noticing how
people sounded when they laughed, but there was a first time for everything.
It was a full-body thing for Hugo, low and deep.
“That doesn’t bother you?”
Hugo cocked his head. “No. Why would it? It’s true. You’re a ghost.
Grandad and Apollo too. And you’re not the first, nor will you be the last.
Charon’s Crossing is always haunted, though not like most people think. We
don’t have anyone rattling chains or causing a ruckus.” He frowned. “Well,
most of the time we don’t. Grandad can get a little ornery when the health
inspector comes around, but usually we tend to avoid the trappings of a
haunted house. It’d be bad for business.”
“They’re still here,” Wallace said. “Nelson. Apollo.”
Hugo stepped around him, heading back toward the house. He trailed his
fingers along the tops of the tallest plants. They bent with his touch before
snapping back upright. “They are.”
Wallace followed him. “Why?”
“I can’t speak for Grandad,” Hugo said. “You’ll have to ask him.”
“I did.”
Hugo glanced back, a look of surprise on his face. “What did he say?”
“That it was none of my business.”
“Sounds about right. He’s stubborn that way.”
“And Apollo?”
The dog barked at the sound of his name, guttural and sharp. He came
bounding up one of the rows to their left. No dust or dirt rose when his paws
hit the ground. He stopped near the porch, back arched, nose and whiskers
twitching as he stared off into the dark forest. Wallace couldn’t see far, and it
struck him how different the night was here compared to the city, the shadows
almost alive, sentient.
“I don’t know that I can answer that either,” Hugo said. Before Wallace
could respond, he added, “Not because I don’t want to, but because I don’t
know, exactly. Dogs don’t—they’re not like us. They’re … pure in a way we