Chapter 16

He comes over to the bench and sinks down gratefully beside me. His eyes are large in his face, staring at me like he’s trying to burn the memory of me into his mind so he’ll never forget what I look like. Tentatively he reaches out to stroke my cheek with one warm hand.

Warm. Ghosts aren’t warm, are they? They don’t have substance. They can’t touch.

I cover his hand with mine and press his palm against my face, kissing his wrist. You can’t kiss a ghost. “David,” I sigh. I love his name. “What’re you talking about? Who’s they?”

“The horsers.” In a rush, he explains. “I went to the stables this morning and thought I’d try to catch you, I didn’t mean for you to run off this morning—”

I frown, confused. “I didn’t…”

He talks over me. “And I asked to speak with you but they didn’t know who I meant. I don’t know your family name, I asked for Nicholas, but they didn’t know—”