We sit in the Springside Long-term Care Facility parking lot. Both ghosts made the trip, and Mr. Carlotta’s has inched its way from the backseat until it infiltrated the box that holds the Purple Heart. As heavy and melancholy as that feels, something clicks into place. For whatever reason, this ghost has claimed this item, and the medal wouldn’t be complete without it.
“You want to come inside?” I ask.
“I was thinking about it, but you know what?” Jack shakes his head. “I don’t want to steal your thunder.”
I can’t help it. I laugh.
He raises a hand from the steering wheel as if he’s trying to silence my laughter. His grin says he isn’t. “I’m serious. Besides, when I was there yesterday, I noticed my grandfather’s chess set was missing a few pieces. I was going to pick up a new one, co
