Our first rule—never acknowledge them—was easy. I would pretend not to see because I was busy with my phone, passing by without a single glance. If by chance I interacted with them by mistake, the second rule forbid me from giving assistance even if they begged, cried, threatened, or tried to reason.
I broke the rules for a child once. Seeing her in a dress with frills, squeaky shoes, and a blond bush of hair, crying because she lost her pink bunny. I took her hand.
I knew she was dead, but that little ghost really touched my heart.