Page 77 of Wish For Me-

We file out the East Wing, past the spot where Eleanor Cleary lost her life, out the back door and across the grounds. We follow the path, lit with pretty lampposts decorated with Christmas ribbons, up the stairs to the lookout spot up the hill. There, we crowd around the statue we had commissioned last year of Eleanor and James, arm in arm, holding baby Clea between them.

Enzo walks among us, handing each of us a little sparkler.

My aunt Cass holds a photo of Grandpa John—a favorite from three Christmases ago, with Floof curled up on his lap. Aunt Chelsea, my dad’s youngest sister, holds a photo of their mother, Shannon, and Eli a photo of Connie and her first husband, who died before she met John. “For balance,” he says. “Since she and Grandpa were each other’s second loves.”

“Did you know Grandpa suspected who Eleanor was all along?” Jack asks as we light the sparklers. “Dad said he traveled to Switzerland years ago. Visited the convent where Eleanor and James left their baby, but hit a dead end.”

“News to me,” I say, shocked.

“I’m not surprised,” Dad says. “Dad always talked about how Mom never knew her family. He would have done everything he could to try to find those roots for her.”

“I always thought he was just obsessed with a ghost story,” Cass said.

“There’s no ghost,” Dad says, scoffing.

“Not anymore,” Jude grins. “They stop haunting you when their earthly matters are resolved.”

Dad rolls his eyes, but Enzo and I exchange a quick glance.

I take Noelle’s hand.

“I love you,” I whisper to her as I lift my sparkler.

“I love you too,” she says, squeezing my hand tight.

But after a moment, both she and I and Enzo look to that spot where we saw Eleanor that day. I don’t know if it’s a trick of the light, or the lightly falling snow, but I swear I see a shadow dance across the wall. A face, this time with a smile.