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stopping at the edge of Rosie’s bed. Slowing, it hovered next to the bed, moving around the edges, studying the resting woman.
    Rosie, blinded by her mask, lifted her pillow, plumped it several times, placed it back down on the bed and snuggled back into it. The figure merely observed her, waiting patiently. Within moments, her soft rhythmic breathing confirmed she was asleep.
    Rising into the air, the figure hovered inches above the sleeping woman and finally dropped down to lie beside her. Rosie moved in her sleep, inching away, but the specter followed. She shook her head. “No, leave me alone,” she moaned in her sleep.
    A brittle mocking laugh echoed in the quiet room.
    Rosie sat up in bed, ripping the mask off her face. Frantically she reached for her bedside lamp and, with shaking hands, turned it on. Light flooded into the room and she scanned the area wildly. Taking deep calming breaths, she realized nothing was out of place. Her room looked the same way it had just minutes ago when she had gone to sleep.
    “I must have been dreaming,” she said aloud, shaking her head. “I just scared myself.”
    She began to reach for her mask when she saw the closet door was open.
    “I thought I...,” her last words caught in her throat as she looked down. Her mask lay in the middle of an imprint of a body made by someone else lying in her bed.

Chapter Seven
    “Your wife was murdered and your baby daughter was given up for adoption?” Katie asked, her eyes wide with horror after Bradley explained the circumstances behind Jeannine’s death. “How did you ever go on with your life?”
    Bradley sat back in his chair. “Well, it wasn’t until recently that I learned what actually happened to Jeannine and my daughter,” he explained. “Mary was able to help Jeannine’s ghost remember what happened and we were able to finally catch the man who kidnapped her.”
    Mary nodded. “We just discovered that his daughter was given up for adoption to a couple in Freeport,” Mary said. “But the records are still sealed, so we haven’t been able to discover anything else about her.”
    Katie chuckled. “You must have thought it ironic when I told you Maggie was adopted.”
    Mary and Bradley glanced at each other, neither saying a word. Finally, Ian replied with a nervous laugh of his own, “Oh, aye, it was quite ironic.”
    “Wait...” Clifford said, eying the three of them. “You thought Maggie was Bradley’s daughter, didn’t you?”
    Clearing his throat, Bradley nodded. “Yes, Clifford, for a little while we thought she might be my daughter.”
    “But...but...why didn’t you come to us? Ask us?” Katie asked.
    “Actually, that was our first impulse,” Mary explained. “It seemed so logical. Not only was she adopted, but Maggie admitted to us that she’d seen a ghost; a sad lady named Jeannine.”
    Katie covered her hand with her mouth. “Jeannine…Bradley’s wife?” Katie finally asked. “Maggie had seen her?”
    Nodding, Mary turned to Katie. “Yes, she had. And we thought, eight years old, a little girl, adopted, in Freeport and she talked about a sad lady, a ghost, coming to see her. What were the odds?”
    “And you considered talking to us?” Clifford repeated.
    “Aye, we did,” Ian interrupted. “But because we were still working with the judge in Chicago to open the files, we didn’t think it would be fair to suggest it without proof. We didn’t want all of us living in this limbo together.”
    “And, quite frankly, we didn’t want to hurt any of you,” Bradley added. “The very reason Maggie is so adorable and bright is because of the way you raised her. You are her parents, no matter what the file might have shown. Your boys are her brothers.”
    He paused and ran his hand through his hair. “I was actually relieved when we found out that she wasn’t the one.”
    “Wait, what? When did you find that out?” Clifford asked.
    “Actually, this afternoon at the wedding,” Mary