They Thought She Just Wanted Food — Until She Took Them to the Woods (3 of 3)

Back at home, Mrs. McAllister swore she’d seen that locket before — in an old photograph of her great-grandmother, taken before she emigrated. The same locket she was buried with.

For weeks afterward, the squirrel didn’t return. When she finally did, it was different. She no longer knocked. She simply sat at the edge of the porch, eyes on the family, as though making sure they still wore the locket.

The McAllisters don’t speak of the well. They don’t go looking for it. And they’ve stopped telling neighbors about Brindle’s visits.

Some debts, after all, are better left settled.