A grave could be visited. Ashes could be scattered. But vanishing? That ripped a hole in the world the size of a life, and through that hole sighed a terrible wind repeating a single note:
Gone.
For years, Aggie had forgotten the real Joanne, the way her sister had laughed, fought, been.
But now that the videotape made her real again-no matter how many times the recording changed, no matter how terrifying the flickering images-it was all Aggie wanted. To trade the Gone for the One. She owed Joanne that much. To say she was sorry. That it had been her fault.