She froze for a second, her gaze locked on Silas Mercer. Unlike all the other ghosts she had seen throughout the years, Silas did not flicker or shimmer in transparency. He was solid, even tangible enough that a prickle of unease traveled up her spine. The majority of ghosts just wandered around in unquestionable confusion, stuck between life and death, but not him.
"Mind telling me why you're sitting on your own grave?" Lilly asked, crossing her arms as she cocked her head slightly, trying to keep some semblance of control in the conversation.
Silas's smile twisted wider, merrymaking still dancing in his eyes. "Where else?" he remarked with a careless shrug as if the event was taken for granted.
Lilly's curiosity flared. There was something different about him—something that separated him from the other spirits she'd encountered. He was more aware, more deliberate, and entirely too comfortable in the world of the dead.
"So, what's the deal?" Lilly asked, brushing the last of the dirt off a nearby headstone. "You just hanging around for fun?"
Silas chuckled, a low, warm sound, but partly sharp. He stood then, stepping down from the gravestone with an unnervingly fluid motion. "You might say that," he replied, reflecting, "since this is my grave."
In a few moments, Lilly watched him, her arms still crossed as she leaned against another gravestone. "You don't act like the restless type. What's your story, Silas?"
Silas's smile gentled, though his eyes remained sharp. "I might ask the same of you, Miss Harper. You're not just here to clean graves, are you?"
Lilly's breath caught in her throat. How does he know my name? Her heart ran a marathon, but she schooled her features into neutrality. "How do you know who I am?"
Silas did not lose his smile. "Spirits have a way of knowing things," he said, taking a step closer, his voice taking on a softer tone. "Especially when someone like you comes around."
"Someone like me?" Lilly repeated narrowing her eyes. She had always been in a position to see ghosts, but she had never thought of herself as special. It was just something she'd kept to herself—a quirk she'd learned to live with.
Silas's eyes danced over hers, weighing. "You see the dead, don't you? Not many living people can do that."
Lilly's heart quickened, but she didn't let it appear. She shrugged instead, pushing off the gravestone. "Yeah, I see dead people. What of it?"
There was something unreadable in Silas's gaze, perhaps curiosity or perhaps something darker. "That makes you interesting." Lilly wasn't quite sure if that was a compliment or a warning, but she didn't have time to dwell on it. "Well, congratulations. You've figured me out," she said lightly. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got more graves to clean."
She turned to leave, expecting Silas to fade away like so many spirits did once they had their say. But when she turned her shoulder to glance back, he was still there, watching her with that strange, enigmatic smile.
"Be careful, Miss Harper," Silas called, his voice soft now, yet somehow more intense. "Not everything in this place is as harmless as it seems."
Lilly stopped and turned fully around to him. "What's that supposed to mean?"
Silas's smile faltered, but never quite left his face. He turned his eyes from her to the ranks of gravestones hemming them in on all sides, and his face sobered. "There's more in this graveyard than just the memories of the dead," he said, his tone low. "Some things linger on longer than they ought. And not all of them are as friendly as I am."
A chill ran down Lilly's spine, but her voice came out even. "Is that supposed to scare me?"
Silas chuckled softly and shook his head. "No, it's supposed to warn you." Before Lilly could utter a single word, Silas stepped back; his form grew more distant, more translucent. His last words, still echoing in the still air, faded as his figure merged into the shadows. "Be careful, Miss Harper. The dead don't always rest easy." In an instant, he was there one minute and gone the next. She let her breath out slowly, the tension in her shoulders dissipating as the weight of his presence vanished. She had been through loads of strange encounters in her life, but there was something about Silas Mercer that lingered within her mind. He was different, not because he was charming or his warnings were cryptic, but because he felt more real than any spirit she had ever encountered. By the time she finished cleaning the last of the graves, a nagging feeling wouldn't leave Lilly's mind that Silas knew more about her—and this very cemetery—than he was letting on.