“Did you know that…?” Ryan trails off.
“No.”
“Then…?”
“I don’t know,” Alex shrugs again, seemingly unconcerned. “I’ve never been up here before.”
They stare at each other, the sunlight creating an odd slant across Alex’s face, leaving one eye in darkness and the other shimmering a bright, almost white-grey colour, framed by dark lashes against a shockingly white face.
“Maybe that’s why they left,” Alex says. “They left all of this behind. Maybe they couldn’t stand to come back up here.”
“You think…?”
“Nooses are rarely playthings.”
He sounds old, or very far away. His eyes slide sideways, and the focus goes out of his face.
“Sometimes it is easier to uproot everything, than to live with the ghosts.”
“There’s no such things as ghosts,” Ryan laughs uneasily.
Those pale eyes snap back to his face.
“No,” Alex agrees, “but they could hear the noose all the same.”
Ryan is no longer sure who he’s talking about.