So I had started over. About a year had gone by since Alexander passed away. The raw pain was gone, replaced by momentary seconds of sadness usually realated to the children or my in-laws.

Emily and I completely redecorated the house and re-landscaped the yard. I had packed away most of my old memories in the attic. I dove head first into opening and running my own restaurant.  I became mommy and daddy to the kids. Life had moved on.

One day Emily and I had planned to have a garage sale. We started going through stuff and came upon the book and box from the crazy old woman in New Orleans. I had forgot about it, as a matter of fact I had forgotten about being crazy. Since Alexander died there were no more nightmares, no more whispers. Emily deceided we should read it, even though we no longer needed it. So we kept it.

The weekend came and went. We had our sale, if I remember correctly Emily did way better than I did. The kids were with my parents, so we figured we would have a girls night. We picked up take out,  planned to put on our pjs and settle in for some good movie watching.

Emily sugguested after dinner we read some of the mysterious book. Sure why not, I wasn’t crazy anymore, what could it hurt.

Little did I know, If I’d known then what I know now….