Glass shattered in the living room.
Mason yelled.
Paisley began crying.
I crawled toward the kitchen, calling my children’s names.
And as Thomas dragged a heavy cabinet in front of the front door, Sadie stared through the shattered window toward the street.
Then she whispered something that made me stop.
“There’s someone standing beside the car.”
I turned.
“What?”
Her face had gone colorless.
“I can see him.”
“Who?”
Sadie looked at me.
For the first time since I had met her, she looked more shocked than frightened.
“Christopher.”
My heart stopped.
Outside, beneath the flickering streetlamp, stood a man wearing Christopher’s funeral suit.
The same suit I had watched the mortician button around his body.
The same suit I had watched disappear beneath the lid of his coffin.
And when the man lifted his face toward our shattered window—
he smiled.
