For a while I heard nothing, and was once again afraid noone's home. But soon afterwards I heard a shuffling sound deep within the house, steps towards the door, and then the door creaked open.

Fred lets out another sad sigh. I look up to see the object of his unhappiness, a figure of black.

Mrs Carpaci had obviously been sad for a very long time. While she had a pretty face, her features hung limply, her face blotchy with continuous weeping. She was wearing nothing but black, and didn't look like she would be happy again for a long time.

"Yes?" She asked, her voice soft.

"Mrs Carpaci," I began, reigning in my emotions to take care of the situation. "I'm here on behalf of your late husband Fred. You might remember me, from the phone call? Two weeks ago?" When she slightly nods in understanding, her eyes opened in shock, I continue. "He has told me that he left in your posesion a certain necklace which was once owned by his grandmother, which he had wanted you to give to his daughter. He knows this hasn't been done, and would like you to rectify the situation."
Mrs Carpaci sighed slowly, her eyes welled up with unshed tears.

"You'd better come in."

The inside of the Carparci household was a desolate as the outside. The shut curtains brought a feeling of gloom all over a house which, if the photos and cheerful decorations were anything to go by, had previously been happy and full of life. Death was a sad thing, and I hoped it wouldn't touch me again personally for a long time.

Mrs Carpaci was very nice to me as I entered, immediately going to the kitchen to make me a cup of coffee. As she was in the kitchen I glanced again at Mr Carpaci, only to find him sobbing quietly to himself.

I longed to be at home, in my cheerful pink room, away from all this suffering. I had so much to look forward to there, so much to tell Jesse, a lifetime ahead of me. I hoped that all would work out for the Carpacis, that Mrs Carpaci would find something else to live for, like my Mum had, and inwardly I was sure she would. The human spirit is not a fragile thing – it longs to survive. If anything, thirteen years of ghosts had taught me that.

After Mrs Carpaci returned to the room, carefully placed my coffee in front of me and collapsed on couch opposite with her nurturing her own, I told my story. I told her of how her husband had contacted me, so long ago, with his request. How it was what he wanted.

Mrs Carpaci remained sitting forlornly, few emotions playing across her face.

"You mean you have talked to him? Directly?" I nodded. "Does he," she paused, controlling herself. "Does he… look well?"

I reached over to put my hand on hers where it rested on the table, wanting to comfort her in any way I could. "He's fine Mrs Carpaci. He misses you and your daughter incredibly, but his spirit still survives. In fact, he is right here." Mrs Carpaci tried to control herself, but a sob still escaped.

"He's here?"

"Yes, and in fact he's been with you for all of these last weeks. And even after he moves on, when the necklace is not keeping him anymore, he will still be somewhere. I've seen it."
Mrs Carpaci, rather than seeming happy at the declaration, burst out into tears, sobbing after what I'd said. Her shoulders shook as she cried, face in hands, totally letting go in her sadness.

"I- I can't," she said through her tears. "I can't give her the necklace. We have no money. We're going-" she sniffed, "we—we're going to lose the house if I don't keep paying to mortgage, and the life insurance just isn't enough – and—and," more sobs ripped from her body and I stared hopefully at Mr Carpaci, silently asking him what he wanted, but he was crying too.

"Mrs Carpaci, you can't keep living from pawning forever. If you're going to lose the house anyway, you may as well keep what is most valuable. Fred doesn't care about the house, he cares about you, and your daughter, and your families, and the way to keep him alive is to keep the necklace in the family."

I awkwardly stood up and kneeled before her, giving her a hug. "I know this is a hard time, Mrs Carparci, but you're a strong woman. You'll get through it."

She looked up at me and graced me with a wobbly smile. "Mrs Carpaci sounds so formal. Please, call me Margaret."