The possibility that ghosts (and hosts) the performance of writing is found at the fringe, near the margin, by the boundary, of the line. It produces a trembling in the identity of the I (that writes, that reads) that induces a loss of distinctness, a sacrifice of definition, and a surrender of determination. The end of the line. The line blurs and disappears in the inked granules of an eraser. The line is presence and where presence is lost, effaced, rubbed away, the ‘natural’ progression of dear and departed presence, dead presence, and ghost follows suite. There, at the end of the line, where the idea of limit is put into question, blurring enclosures, the meaning of “limit,” and specifically, the limit of life, is left questionable.
—  David Appelbaum, Jacques Derrida’s Ghost

The local police departments were at a dead end so they turned to the FBI. AD Skinner, in assigning us this case thought a fruitful approach to the investigation would be if we went undercover posing as prospective home buyers as this planned community would seem to hide a dark, possibly murderous conspiracy of silence. // 6.15 “Arcadia”