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No.”
    â€œThey were directed to send me this package when I turned twenty-five.”
    â€œLast Friday. Happy birthday.”
    She smiled faintly. Hague didn’t live by the world’s time line though he understood it perfectly. “It had pictures of our mother and some other people inside.” She handed him the series of pictures she’d pored over throughout the last two days. This morning she’d decided to go visit her brother directly after work and see what he made of the package’s contents. “And it has my real birth certificate and several other papers.”
    â€œWho directed the lawyers?”
    â€œOur mother.”
    His eyes caught hers. “What?”
    Liv explained how the lawyers had gotten hold of her and sent the package. “She—Mama—wanted me to have this, but I don’t really understand why. My birth certificate, okay, and personal stuff, but who are these people?”
    â€œThat’s our father.”
    In one of the pictures Albert was standing beside Deborah in a grassy field, possibly the one behind their old house.
    â€œBut who’s this?” she asked, pointing to the man trying to grab for the camera.
    Hague was ignoring her as he selected a piece of paper, holding it up between his thumb and index finger, away from his body, as if it might bite him. He glanced at her expectantly.
    Liv had read the missive, knew what it was. She said carefully, “It’s a note from Mama to me.”
    Hague was utterly silent. Liv gazed at him and her heart squeezed. Framed by his scruffy hair and beard were a pair of glittering blue eyes and a handsome face that he would never—could never, apparently—let the world see.
    â€œRead it,” Liv urged him gently.
    Hague brought the note closer and stared at it hard for several seconds, then he said in a monotone: “ Livvie, my sweet girl, if you’re reading this then everything I’ve feared has come to be, and I’m not around to tell you these things for myself. You know you were adopted. Your biological parents are listed on your birth certificate. I’ve enclosed some snapshots for you to have of me. Know I love you. . . . Mom .” He peered at the photographs, then up at her quizzically. “Why these pictures? They’re not even that good of her. I have better ones.”
    â€œDo you remember anything about those other people?” Liv asked.
    Hague glanced at the photographs again, zeroing in on the one Liv had pointed to with the angry man. His shoulders tucked in and his head tilted back, his gaze glued to the photo.
    â€œThere he is again,” he said in a strained voice.
    Liv looked at the man in the picture. “ Again? You’ve seen him before?”
    â€œZombie,” he said.
    Kill you . . . Kill you!
    Liv’s head spun a bit. “This is the zombie man?” she demanded, pointing to the picture.
    â€œThey keep their hands in their pockets and wear rigor smiles.” His eyes rolled away, stretching wide as he looked into some distant horror only he could see.
    â€œHague,” Della said uncertainly.
    â€œHe follows me,” Hague said in a harsh whisper. “If I look, he’s always there. Out of the corner of your eye. Just there . . . almost . . . there . . . there! ” He jerked violently and Liv and Della both jumped, too.
    â€œHague,” Liv said sharply, recognizing the signs that he was leaving reality. She hoped to keep him with her. “Hague!”
    But his eyes closed and he drifted away. Into one of his fugue states.
    Gone...

Chapter 3
    â€œYou put him in a trance!” Della snapped.
    Liv looked at Hague with resignation. She wanted to call him back, but it was too late. It was futile to try to rouse him when he disappeared into his own world.
    She slid a glance at the photograph. Zombie man . . .
    Della fussed over Hague, tilting his head back in the La-Z-Boy recliner he practically