“I’ll listen if you tell me something decent once in a while. You’re always too late, Nancy! Why don’t you tell me before they’re killed? Why don’t you get off your dead ass and tell me who did it!”

There was no answer from Nancy. Rose ran to the window and tore the curtains open again. Nancy’s eyes burned into her own. Then Mom burst into the room and there was a flicker, like a candle snuffed out, and Nancy was gone.

“Rose! That music!”

“Sorry.” She turned the player off.

“And why aren’t you in bed? Come on, shake a leg.”

“Mom? Did you ever notice that I was different?”

Mom laughed. “You and your brother were always a little different. But that’s no excuse for blasting the house down at midnight.”

“I’m serious. Could we talk about it, please? What about when I was born? Did anything happen?”

“Only that you came into the world yelling your head off.”

“I mean something .. . like anything . .. well, something you couldn’t explain.”

“I don’t know what you’re on about. Your birth was perfectly normal, Rose. Remember what your father said and don’t let Mrs. Emerson get to you. All right. You seem to have some kind of sixth sense. But that’s not so strange. Lots of people have premonitions; maybe you’re just better at them. I don’t want you going around thinking you’re some kind of oddity, and I don’t want you getting a big head. The best thing to do is try to forget about it.” She went over to draw the curtains back across the window. “That’s just great, Mom. Forget about it?” “We’re not going to let this wreck our lives.” “Like it’s my fault? I didn’t decide to do this, you know. It just happened to me. That’s why I asked you, what’s different about me? And you just tell me to forget it.”

“You’re tired, dear,” Mom said. Her face was expressionless as she gave Rose a peck of a kiss good night. “Have a good sleep. Things will look brighter in the morning.”

Rose was tired but didn’t think she was going to sleep much.

Please, please, she prayed. Please don’t let her come back again tonight.

The man was hoisting something onto the top of his blue car, tying it down. Rose tried to blink away the cobwebs in front of her eyes. It was not a Christmas tree, it was a body. The head lolled, and the limbs kept slipping off. He tossed them around like dead fish and secured them with a hairy rope. The lardy flesh cracked and split as he pulled the rope tighter. Little worms came crawling out. He laughed like a raucous mynah bird. “Can you tell me the way to Danville dump?” he shouted.