Chapter 3

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Daisy's POV

"Did you love him?" Father had asked me one day after he often saw me moving around the house holding the ring Samuel never gave me. It had been seven years since my death now and six since Samuel's. I had hoped a lot that he would choose to stay too but he moved on, never knowing that I stayed behind.

"Yes. I guess I did. I never realized this or I wouldn't have accepted George's marriage proposal. It was only when I saw him with the ring later on the day of my funeral that I realized the true power of these feelings. I couldn't even tell him that I understood how he felt at the moment." I had sadly replied. I was thankful that George was not here but was off on his honeymoon with his new wife Cynthia. I liked her. We would have been good friends if life had chosen to bring us together in some other way. She was a little taller than me and was very beautiful but it wasn't all her looks. She had the heart and the brains too to be always smart in life and be a perfect life-partner for George.

"Then give the ring to me." He asked for the ring and I hesitated, being unwilling to lose this last symbol of the unspoken love between me and him. "I will be careful with it and have it back to you in a day." I trusted my father, but just to be safe, I was going to be with him, invisible of course.

Just before I gave the ring to him, I asked him a question that had often popped up when I tried to think of a life when I and Samuel ended up declaring our love for each other while we were both alive. "Father, if things hadn't gone this way... if I hadn't died and Samuel had proposed before I ever met then would you have given your blessings?"

He was shocked by my sudden question and I got my answer as I read the feelings that went through his face. Shock. Surprise. Anger. Shame. Then the mask slipped on and his feelings disappeared as he tried to lie to me. "Yes... where are you going?" He called out as I disappeared before his eyes.

Then I broke a golden lace from one of heavy and ostentatious window drapes and fashioned a rough necklace by passing it through the ring. Before I left the room, I spoke and my father, who was still staring at the place from where I last stood, turned left towards me. "Father, you should know better. Eyes and the surprised face are the windows of the soul after all." I promised myself I would never let anyone ever separate it from me.

Now, tears fall as all my hope dies by the hand of this very necklace. By taking a few things from here and there, I had made a necklace that was almost wearable out of that terrible first piece. I mourn the loss of hope that had snuck in while I dealt with that Nick. I didn't want to see that necklace just yet and so I kept my eyes closed as the endless tears fell.

As I heard his steps on those creaking stairs, I remembered that the main entrance of the house was held locked. With only a bit of concentration of the telekinetic power I had, I unlocked the door. An unfamiliar voice grunted in sudden pain and my sobs slowed as I tried to hear more about this new stranger. And then what he spoke could have been a dagger across my throat.

 "Come on, Nick. I am sorry. Forgive me. The bet's off. Forget the necklace. Let's just leave." This stranger spoke and my eyes flew open. To my horror, and to their misfortune, there was no necklace. LIES! It was all a lie! Then I use these after-death powers once again and kick the newcomer inside and lock the door just as the thief, Nick, yells to the other male intruder to run.

Trust and hope are such sneaky things. They invade without getting caught, only making their presence known when they break within. Hurt and betrayal rise within me as I pull the door open and scream, 'THIEVES!'

With one wave of my hand, and a large creaking sound, I turn the stairs into a slippery slope and a small part of my betrayed heart is joyed to hear him yelp and then grunt in pain. "Daisy", he tries to speak as he looks at me. I must be visible again. "I can explain..." while his friend yelps so loud that I entertain the possibility that he lost his ability to speak. That is a pleasant thought.

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