The cold spot followed her. “Dammit, Michael, get out of my room, you pervert!” Could you even be a pervert if you were dead? She supposed you could, if you had a working body half the time. “I swear, I’m going to start taking my clothes off!”

The cold spot stayed resolutely put until she got the hem of her T-shirt all the way up to her bra line, and then faded away. “Chicken,” she said, and paced the room, back and forth. Worried and more than a little scared.

Shane pounded on the door, but she stretched out on her bed, put a pillow over her face, and pretended not to hear him.

Dusk came, pulling a blue gauze over the sky; she watched the sun sink halfway down the horizon, then unlocked her door and stormed out. Shane was just coming out of Michael’s bedroom. Still looking for someone he wasn’t going to find. Not the way he thought, anyway.

“Michael!” Claire yelled from her end, and felt the cold settle around her like an icy blanket. Shane spun around, and she felt the mist gather, thick and heavy, and then she actually saw it, a faint gray shape in the air….

Eve’s door flew open. “What in the hell is going on around here?” she yelled. “Could you guys keep it down to aircraft-carrier noise?”

…And then Michael just…appeared. Midway between all three of them, forming right out of a thick gray heavy mist, taking on color and weight.

Eve screamed.

Michael collapsed to his hands and knees, retching. He fell on his side, then rolled over to stare up at the ceiling. “Shit!” he gasped, and just stayed there, fighting for breath. His eyes looked wet and terrified, and Claire realized that it was like this for him every day. Every night. Frightening beyond anything she could even imagine.

Claire looked down the hall at Shane. He was frozen in place, mouth open, looking like a cartoon of himself. Eve, too, from her angle.

Claire walked over, held out a hand to Michael, and said, “Well, I guess that settles things.”

He gave her a filthy, wordless look, and took her hand to pull himself up. He staggered and leaned against the wall for support, shaking his head when she tried to help. “In a minute,” he said. “Takes a lot out of you.”

Eve said, in a high, squeaky, airless voice, “The ghost! You’re the ghost Miranda was talking about! Oh my God, Michael, you’re the ghost! You bastard!”

He nodded, still concentrating on breathing.

Eve got control of her voice and squealed, “That is without a doubt the coolest damn thing I have ever seen in my entire life!”