The faces of the two women I lived with—my aunt and my younger sister—surfaced momentarily from the depths of my selfishness, but I closed my eyes...to them.Aunt Riley was getting by just fine without my help, and Jessie—You’re running away from it.—was better off without a useless brother like me. I selected “no” again.There was no third prompt.Since I didn’t have anywhere in particular to go, I walked aimlessly around my small coastal Florida town of Navarre taking pictures of whatever happened. "Why don't we just talk?" she asked.Aimee spent the next hour or so explaining what she had been taught about those people that invade the dreams of the living.When Aimee had been younger, she had believed those things, but as she grew older, part of her considered the old tales as myths, although she still remembered the stories that her Aunt told her quite vividly.Aimee, as I said, had an unusual gift of her own: that of insight into other people. She told me that she used her gift to ensure. More

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