Dark Souls By Paula Morris Review-Post
The ghost was there.
Miranda froze, still clutching one of the curtains. He looked even more breathtaking this time, his face like chiseled marble. Tonight he wasn't smiling at all, but his eyes were warm, velvety dark. He opened his mouth. Was he trying to say something? Then the flame of the candle leapt, just for an instant, and died. he was gone.
Miranda peeled her hand off the glass and staggered back to bed, her heart racing. What was he going to say to her? What did he want her to know?