A young man sculpted from moonlight was standing at the end of her bed. Lara wondered how long he’d been there. She wasn’t alarmed at all, just curious. There was a lucent, metallic sheen about him, as if he was clad in armour. He didn’t say anything or make any move and his gaze seemed to be fixed on the coverlet at some mid-point. By the time she had reached over to the bedside table to switch on the lamp, he had vanished.

She mentioned it to her friend Amelia, a day later, over the phone.

“Well I hope it was a dream — and he wasn’t some sneaky cat burglar. ”

“I’ve got nothing worth stealing these days Melly — and though he did seem real at the time, I wasn’t frightened.”

“Please tell me you put the chain on the door at night. I worry about you being alone in that basement.”

“I had Teddy with me and he didn’t make a sound.”

“So it must have been a dream.”

“I like to think he’s a spirit, like the one in the old house in Ceylon. Granny Ma saw him numerous times, a little wizened old man. This one looked young enough to be the ghost of the child I never had. He looked rather solemn, as if he was there for a reason. I’ve always thought this place might be haunted.”

Lara unzipped the vanity case and took out a small hand mirror from one of the compartments. A very necessary inspection was…