Chapter Twelve: "Just under a foot tall, the stone sculpture was washed in a sickly green shade like oxidized copper. The passage of time, of being submerged in seawater, or buried in the sand, of changing hands, had eroded the sharp points of the wings, snapped off small pieces of the many searching tentacles, softened the once precise definition of the sculptor, but just to be in its presence was humbling.”Remember, there are two types of people in this world.The Haunters and the Haunted.Wh...