'Check your pockets, mate. I bet she's cut 'em.'
He did. They were empty, and they were torn.
'She does that to everyone. She lets you steal her jewellery then she follows the trail of trinkets to where you're hiding. It's her little vice.'
Henry looked at his interlocutor. It's a ghost, he realised. A laughing ghost with a hole in the middle of his forehead.
Ooohhh... – Editor