GENRE: Paranormal YA
Carly knew something was off about the old man the moment she first spotted him. He peeked out from behind one of the towering flower arrangements dotting the funeral parlor, twitching his head back and forth, like a rat sniffing at a trash pail and hoping not to get caught.
She sized him up. Little bits of white lint covered his wrinkled black suit like thistles. He wasn't exactly well put-together. Maybe he was a priest. She quickly nixed that idea--no collar. Besides, what kind of priest hid behind flowers instead of shaking hands or praying? He was nothing like the other mourners at the funeral, either. He didn't kneel on the padded velvet footstool beside Nonna's casket to pay his respects. And he didn't offer the requisite sad, pitiful smile Carly had grown accustomed to seeing in the last three days.
She kept her eyes pinned on him as she stood behind her father, leaning against the wall, hoping not to be seen by her mother or Aunt Marjorie. Good grief, those two had been sobbing all day. Marj had bits of Kleenex stuck to the end of her nose. No way was Carly getting within a six-foot radius of that pity party. She didn't need to be reminded of the obvious, thank you very much.
Besides, watching the old dude was by far the best entertainment she'd had all day. She needed something to take her mind off the fact that her grandmother was in that wood box.