The only question she cared about had no answer. It had to do with life and death and everything in between, all the things that, within a week or a few months or a year, she was going to lose. Forever.

-26-

-26-

Lucia was already awake when the ring of the doorbell pierced the night. She was waiting in the corridor, her eyes fixed on the door. Earlier, was woken up by a nightmare and hadn’t been able to go back to sleep; she had gone to the window to look at the snow falling. That was when she’d seen the man.

She heard something tumbling to the floor and her father swearing as he threw his bedroom door open. He staggered toward Lucia with a befuddled look on his face and that smell on him she had learned to recognize; it was the scent of that smoke that made him feel good and made him burst into laughter for no reason until he would eventually pass out.

“What are you doing here?” he barked. “Go back to your room.”

“There’s a man outside, Dad . . .” she tried to tell him, but he paid her no heed, and ushered her back into her room.

“Your mother must have forgotten her keys again.”

Lucia saw him leaning on the wall as he made for the door, his arms flailing as he searched for something to hold on to and help him keep his balance. She hid behind her bedroom door and watched him. He thought she was odd because she believed in ghosts, and recently he’d begun spending even less time with her than usual. But the ghost who wanted to come into their home was real.

The doorbell went off again with a short, imperious ring.

Her father turned the doorknob just as the neighbor’s rooster crowed. The animal was like a living clock: every day, no matter what, it crowed at exactly four in the morning. But if it was four o’clock, Lucia thought, surely her mother should have been back by now.

The door opened, and she saw the stranger’s bulk filling up the doorframe. Covered in a coat that reached all the way to his feet, he looked like some kind of giant. His hood hung low over his face, and all they could see was a long beard.

“What is it? Do you need help?” said Lucia’s father.

The ghost lifted his head. His face was white, like that of a dead person.

Lucia closed the door to her room and ran to hide under her bedcovers, but quickly changed her mind and tiptoed back to the door to stick her head out and watch.