By the time Maya escorts me to my bedroom and tucks me into bed, I’ve finally managed to calm down.

“It’s a lot to take in, I know,” she says softly. “I was in denial for months after finding out about my gift.”

“How did you find out?”

“I was nine years old when my Ma and Oumie took me to the park one day,” she says, smiling. “Oupie had died the year before and, whenever I asked where he was, everyone just told me he was in heaven.” She shakes her head. “But the next minute he was there, in the park. I was laughing and talking to him.”

“Weren’t you scared?” I ask, sitting up.

She laughs, “No, Miss Claire. I loved my Oupie and was happy to see him again.”

I’m laughing and suddenly there’s a change in the air. It feels as though there’s someone there, and I know before Maya confirms it…

“Miss Taryn is here and she’s happy to see you laughing,” Maya says, squeezing my hand.

My eyes flash around. I’m twisting my neck left and right, like I’m going to catch sight of her if I’m fast enough.

“Just talk, Miss Claire,” Maya encourages me. “She will hear you.”

And I do.

When I share a cheerful memory, the air seems lighter and fresher; when I share sad feelings, a comforting warmth embraces me.

I think that’s what made me fall asleep, more soundly and peacefully than I have since Taryn’s death.

Sunday morning passes so uneventfully that it leaves me feeling troubled. When Maya calls later to check up on me, she explains that Taryn needs me to rest; that I need to be strong for what lies ahead.

“It’s Miss Taryn’s journey. She will let you know soon.”

***

Tell us what you think: Would you be afraid if a close friend or relative who had died reappeared as a ghost, or would you find it comforting? Why?