Page 5 of Drop Dead Gorgeous

Absence.

It's like pressing my ear against a wall and discovering there was never a room behind it.

I realize I've been staring far too long when one corner of his mouth lifts ever so slightly. It isn't quite a smile, nor is it mocking. If anything, he looks faintly curious, as though I've become the unexpected part of his afternoon.

I square my shoulders and call across the rain.

"Well? Have you come to admire the flowers, or do you attend every funeral in town?"

He studies me for a long moment before answering.

"I attend the important ones."

His voice is deep and unhurried, carrying easily through the rain despite never rising above conversation. There isn't an ounce of defensiveness in it, nor the awkwardness of someone caught where they shouldn't be. He sounds perfectly sincere.

I fold my arms. "And what made this one important?"

His eyes drift briefly toward Mrs. Fenwick's grave.

"She shouldn't have been alone."

The simple statement steals the retort from my tongue.

"I agree," I admit quietly.

For the first time, something softens in his expression. It's almost imperceptible, gone so quickly I wonder if I imagined it, but it leaves behind the unmistakable impression that we'd somehow reached the same conclusion from opposite directions.

"You knew her?" I ask.

"I met her today."

The answer is odd enough to make me blink.

"That's . . . an unusual way to put it."

"It seemed accurate."

I study him more carefully.

He isn't pale or ghostly as I'd first assumed from a distance. If anything, he looks absurdly alive. His eyes are a striking silver-blue, clear and steady beneath rain-darkened hair, and there isn't a trace of exhaustion in his face despite standing in the storm as though he'd been there for hours. He feels strangely out of place, an outsider among both the living and the dead.

"My name is Lavinia," I say at last. "Since you seem determined to attend funerals, it's only polite that we introduce ourselves."

"I know."

The answer catches me off guard.

"You know?"

He gives the slightest inclination of his head.

"Lavinia Graves."

A chill works its way down my spine.

"I don't remember telling you my name."

"You didn't."