11:59 and Andrew still couldn’t believe he’d agreed to being there. “Nearly the witching hour,” he said, dismayed at how loud his voice sounded in the quiet night.
“Hm?” Becca said vaguely as she fiddled with the mini-disc recorder. “Actually, the witching hour is well past midnight, I believe.” She looked up at him and smiled.
Andrew looked around at the shapes around them in the dark — slabs and spires. “We’re in a cemetery at a minute before midnight. How much more witching does it get?”
Becca chuckled and said, “There!” as she stood and stepped back from the microphones. “Now hush.”
A shiver ran up Andrew’s spine. He willed his eyes to see through the shadows. Big mistake. The harder he stared, the more he thought he saw things moving around them.