Haunted houses have long occupied a unique and compelling space in literature and popular culture, largely because they force us to confront a fundamental human desire: the need to know why. It is a deeply terrifying concept to imagine living one’s life in a single place for years, to laboriously build and nurture a home, only for that very sanctuary to turn murderous, manifest ghostly apparitions, or echo with strange, unexplainable noises in the dead of night. When this happens, human curiosity immediately demands answers; we want to uncover the trauma embedded within the structure. According to Helm, a terrible thing must inherently happen in the past—an excruciating, defining reason—for a house to bridge the gap between yesterday and today, bringing its hidden history violently into the present moment.

Through this literary mechanism, the past is brought vividly back to life. There exists not only a supernatural entity or ghostly presence trapped within four physical walls, but also a recurring history that is fundamentally haunted in its own right. In Our Cut of Salt, which Helm describes as her novel about a haunted house in Palestine, this lived history forms an indispensable, integral piece of the ongoing horrors experienced by the characters.

The narrative raises profound questions about the nature of spaces that endure through generations: What do houses, which often stand much older than the geopolitical occupations and devastating wars that swirl around them, truly witness? What must those ancient structures feel deep within their stone foundations and wooden rafters, and how does that accumulated weight ultimately manifest? Helm suggests that the ghosts inhabiting these spaces are not merely confined to literal apparitions lurking within the walls; rather, they exist just as powerfully within memory, culture, and collective consciousness.

As human beings construct their lives, identities, and daily routines within their homes, these spaces—originally designated as sites of profound love, safety, and domestic comfort—can gradually become bitter and resentful witnesses to real-life horrors. Every individual carries the invisible, lingering trauma of the past with them through their daily existence, whether they are fully conscious of it or not. There is an undeniable pain inherent in breathing life back into historical memories that many would prefer to leave buried.

These painful historical events are pulled inexorably forward, over and over again, into the agonizing process of reliving them. There is a sharp, persistent ache in the eventual meeting point between the past and the present. Even though the memories themselves may originate from a distant time long ago, the psychological and emotional wounds they inflict remain entirely real and bleeding in the present moment. The hauntings, therefore, are simultaneously alive in both the past and the present, with each era acting as a direct continuation, consequence, and reflection of the other. Our Cut of Salt is available today wherever books are sold.