There is only one way that this story ends, and I know that all too well.
Despite my best efforts, a ghost can only do so much.
I cannot move the hands of the living or combat my brother's attempts of revenge.
But I do what I can, shove boxes off of shelves, guide them with gusts of wind, and follow their footsteps so carefully that when they trace them back it's clear as day.
No matter how desperately I want to do more, I know the truth.
There is only one way that all of this ends.
With the fires of hell, and a whole lot of courage.
On both ends of the veil.
