She feels something warm on her cheek and awakes with a start. Her fingers brush against something small and wet in the darkness and she gasps. Fumbling for the light, she is aware that Mickey is staring at her in the darkness. **I had an odd dream, I remember.** The too-bright lamp reveals a half-dead mouse lying on her pillow. **Oh, Mickey. Why do have to do this?** After a moment's hesitation she scoops it up in her hands. A ripple of disgust roils through her stomach. **I suppose I'll have to kill it now. It's unkind to let it suffer.** Still musing she shuffles out to the kitchen.
She finds Chris and Nora deeply engrossed in a whispered conversation over milk and cookies. "Hey, what are you two doing up?" The mouse twitches in her hands and she drops it, startled. In the dim moonlight she cannot see it. Shrugging, she washes her hands in the sink. **Probably wasn't as bad off as it looked. Shock or something.** She walks over to her children. "So, you guys want to tell me what's going on?" They are staring, wide-eyed, over her shoulder. She turns and time stops. A church bell somewhere begins the gentle, dull bonging of the witching hour. By the window stands the ghostly form or her husband, arms outstretched. She swallows once, hard. **Oh, Bill. I can't believe it was really you. I do forgive you--