“That’s right. They’re only going to let me maintain my human shape for a few more minutes. They wanted you to recognize me so that you wouldn’t be frightened.”

A million questions flew through Hannah’s mind, and she turned to look at Moishe. He was staring at her with his one good eye and totally ignoring her father. Hannah turned back to look at her father again and found that he had been transformed into a white, amorphous shape that was hovering near the foot of her bed. “But, Dad . . . Moishe’s not even looking at you. I thought cats could see ghosts.”

“Some can, some can’t,” her father replied. “It’s pretty obvious that you have a cat who can’t.”

Hannah smiled. Her dad had said, a cat who can’t, rather than a cat that can’t. It meant that her dad thought of Moishe as a person, just the way she did.

“I must be dreaming,” Hannah said, considering the possibility.

“No, you’re not dreaming. Throw something at me and see what happens.”

“No, Dad! I don’t want to hurt you!”

“You can’t hurt me. I’m already dead. Pick up that pen you have on your night table and peg it straight at me. I taught you how to pitch, remember?”

“I remember,” Hannah answered with a smile.

“Go ahead. Throw a strike. You used to be pretty good at that.”

“No, I wasn’t. You’re just being nice.”

“You caught me on that one, Honey-bear.”

Hannah felt a rush of wonderful memories. Her dad had called her Honey-bear, the childhood nickname he’d used for her until Delores had informed him that Hannah was too old to have a nickname like that.

“Maybe you weren’t the greatest pitcher in the world,” her dad went on, “but you could hit a home run if you were mad enough at the opposing pitcher. Come on, Hannah. Do it. I don’t have that much time here.”

She’d always obeyed her father when he’d given her a direct order, and Hannah wasn’t about to falter now. She picked up the pen, threw it directly at what she thought was the middle of the amorphous shape, and watched in astonishment as the pen passed directly through it and clattered to the floor near her closet.

“Do you believe me now?” he asked her.

Hannah nodded. And then she spoke aloud because she wasn’t sure he’d noticed. “Yes, Dad. I believe you now.”

“I love you, Hannah. I have to go soon, but they sent me here to give you a glimpse into your past. I hope it does the trick for you.”

Hannah was about to ask which trick her father was talking about when his shape spread out flat, like a movie screen that was hanging on the wall. And as she watched, an image appeared.