A tap on her shoulder made her turn to see a Victorian lady.
‘You can’t eat, dear. You’re a ghost. Anything will vanish when you reach for it.’
‘I’m thirty. I can’t…’
‘You had an accident, dear. Let’s find somewhere better to stay.’
‘This is my home.’
‘Was, dear. Do you know those people over there?’
Sharon shook her head. The last year was a blur.
No wonder Rory and the boys weren’t here. They had moved on.
She had not.