It was an entirely open window, outside of which lay a faintly visible hillside. There was a wind chime hanging from the windowsill. In the still air, its star-shaped pendants continued to sway gently, striking the long metal columns and producing clear, pleasant sounds.
"I, my home; I, have returned..." The voice rang out again, but this time it did not come from within the mind, but from right beside the ear.
Following the sound, Bartlett turned to see a blurry figure of a little ghost appearing to his left. The ghost looked exactly like the little girl in the painting on the stairway, only slightly taller.
She wore a light white dress adorned with cherry patterns, her figure flickering in and out of sight, like a lost child in the fog, unable to find her way home after losing her parents.
The appearance of the little ghost did not surprise Bartlett. He had been able to sense her presence since the tombstone had been appraised.
