“It’s,” I whispered, “me.”
Louder.
“I came to find you,” I whispered.
“So?” the shadow murmured. The rain behind me fell in a solid sheet. Lightning shimmered. But still no thunder.
“Constance,” I said at last to the dark shape on the tall shelf with the shadows of rain curtaining it. “Listen.”
And at last I said my name.
Silence.
I spoke again.
Oh God, I thought, she’s really dead!
No more of this! Get out, damn, go! But even in turning, the slightest shrug, it happened. The shadow above with a faceless face quickened with the merest breath.
I hardly heard, I only sensed the shadow.
“What?” it exhaled.
I quickened, glad for life, any life, any pulse.
“My name.” I gave it again.
“Oh,” someone murmured.
Which hammered me to quicker life. I leaned away from rain into cold tomb air.
“I’ve come to save you,” I whispered.
“So?” the voice murmured.
It was the merest mosquito dance in the air, not heard, no, not there. How could a dead woman speak?
“
Good,” the whisper said. “Night.”
“Don’t sleep!” I cried. “Sleep and you won’t come back! Don’t die.”
“Why?” came the murmur.
“Because,” I gasped. “Because. I say so.”
“Say.” A sigh.
Jesus, I thought, say something!
“Say!” said the faintest shadow.
“Come out!” I murmured. “This isn’t your place!”
“Yes.” The faintest brush of sound.
“No!” I cried.
