" Not everyone believes in ghost’s, but I do. Do you know what they are, Trisha?“ She had shaken her head slowly. " Men and women who can’t get over the past,” Aunt Evie said. “That’s what ghost’s are. Not them.” She flapped her arm toward the coffin which stood on its bands beside the coincidentally fresh grave. “The dead are dead. We bury them, and buried they stay. "