Movement caught my eye. Tram walked toward me, scooping back the hood that covered his head so his curls could turn in the wind. I scolded my heart when it did a little flip, but it was hard to deny his hotness.
"I was here earlier. Where were you?" I asked.
"I didn't know you were here," he said as he came closer.
Did he ever change his clothes, or did he have thousands of brown pants and green hooded sweatshirts? His clothes never looked dirty, even though he always wore the same thing.
"You're a weird guy, Tram."
"Well," he said, stopping next to me. He held out Callum's ring. "I'm not the one who's digging in my mother's grave all the time."
I snatched the ring from him and stuffed it in my pocket. "I'm glad I amuse you."
My drop-dead glare only made him smile as he sat next to me.
"I think I know why you do it, though," he said. "You do it to keep her there."
"And you're not helping."