The Sacred Page #4

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Their souls have moved on.

Some in heaven,

some not.

Some definitely not.

Are you okay,

Jessie?

Yeah.

Are you sure?

Let's get out

of here.

Are you sure

you're okay?

Something really scared you

at that cemetery.

What was it?

Aunt Jean, she's just

right on the money.

I have an overactive

imagination, that's all.

I guess.

It's just on overdrive,

now that I'm here

working on my book.

What?

Ever since I've been here,

people are looking at me funny.

That's Aunt Jean's nurse.

Her name's Evelyn.

You know her?

I know everyone.

Can you hurry, please?

Why don't you go

pick yourself out something.

I'm going to go

talk to her for a minute.

Anything I want?

Whatever you want.

Nice.

Excuse me. Hello.

Are you Nurse Evelyn?

Please, I'm quite

in a hurry.

No, I'm sorry

to bother you.

I just want to talk to you for a minute.

You were with my aunt when she died.

You ready to pay?

Leah, are you getting

anything?

Please talk to me.

The police already

questioned me, all right?

The police? Why would the police

get involved?

- I thought it was an accident.

- It was a terrible accident.

Now, please leave me

alone.

This wasn't my fault.

I'm not accusing you

of anything. I...

I took good care of her

for a long time.

Then you understand

I want to be left alone.

What are you not

telling me?

I'm leaving now.

Listen to me

carefully.

Leave.

Did she say something to you

before she died?

I see a lot of things

in my profession.

I see crippling,

painful injuries.

I see disease eating away at

life right before my very eyes.

But this was different.

What do you mean?

Please.

Evil had a hand in this.

Wait!

Wait, please!

No, please talk to me.

Wait.

Please!

Jessie, are you okay?

Yeah.

Here you go.

Thank you.

You're so sweet.

Crazy day, huh?

Did you know that Aunt Jean

left the cabin to me?

I figured.

It's not the reason

I cam here, though.

I know. You came

to finish your book.

That's only part of it.

I came here to see

if this place...

This cabin is the reason

that I write at all.

What do you mean?

Like, inspiration?

It's not just inspiration.

It's influence.

It's like it wants me

to write.

Almost like

I'm being used.

It can't be the happiest place

to be creative in.

Not for someone

like Aunt Jean.

She was old.

Not well.

Probably really weak.

They said she was

fixing a light.

It's okay.

I'm sure she didn't

feel much.

I know that probably doesn't

make you feel any better.

It's okay.

It's late.

I should get going.

Don't want to be in the woods

after dark, you know?

Yeah.

Thank you so much for letting me

spend the day with you.

Too much excitement,

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