At first, I don't see anything—not with how the darkness seems to swallow everything up. Slowly, though, particles of dust light up, creating the vague outline of a body.

I blink once. Twice. I bring one hand to rub at my eyes, convinced I must be seeing things. But no. It's real.

The shimmery dust I've seen before is here again. And that means...

FIFTEEN

"Nikki?" A choked sob escapes me as I all but jump off the staircase in my attempt to get closer to him. "Is it you? Please tell me it's you," I plead.

This is what pure madness is. Prizing the potential of one more moment with my beloved above my own safety.

It could be anything. It could be anyone. But I throw caution to the wind and focus only on what he makes me feel—on what my heart tells me is true.

How could anyone but him awaken this raging storm of longing in my heart?

I reach with my hand for him, curling my fingers inward as I hesitate to touch him.

"Nikki?" I ask in a whisper.

He doesn't answer. Of course he doesn't answer. He's shimmery dust, not a person, and according to Thea, his spirit would barely have awareness.

Yet in spite of that, the shimmery mist that makes up his shape flickers, the light particles growing in intensity.

I stare at it with my mouth wide open, my brain working fast on a solution.

He can't mean me harm. I sense no malicious intent from him, only curiosity and protectiveness.

"You can't speak, can you?"

The mist shimmers again.

But against all odds, he is trying to communicate with me.

My pulse is in my ears as I stare at him, almost unable to believe this is real. But if gods, demons, ghosts, and who knows what other creatures exist, why can't this be? Why can't I have at least this after suffering so much in this lifetime?

"Can you light up once for no and twice for yes?" I ask tentatively.

The mist lights up once. Then another time.

Oh God. It's happening. Excitement courses through me as I take a step closer.

"You can understand me, right?"

He lights up twice. Yes.

"Are you attached to me?"

I wait for a moment for him to answer, but when he doesn't, I rephrase my question.

"Have you been following me?"

Two shimmers. Yes.

I nod to myself.

Okay. Good. That is good to know.

"Have you been following me since the game?"

One shimmer. No.

"Before?"

Two shimmers. Yes.

Oh my. I'm close to hyperventilating the closer I get to the most important question.

"Have you been with me since the accident?"

He doesn't answer. Of course he wouldn't really remember the accident, would he?

"Are you my... Nikki?" I wet my lips as I stare intently at the mass of black-silvery swirling dust.