"Lorraine? Is that the name of the woman in the cottage and on Matt's picture?" It seemed the only plausible explanation.

Theo's eyes gleamed in the last rays the sun sent over the lake, and for a moment, I waited for them to develop a glow of their own. Then he blinked, and a few teardrops clung to his lashes. "Possible, even probable. I've been drawn to that cottage since I arrived."

"And—where did you come from? I mean, where were you before you came to Corbières?"

"Sorry, San, I still have not the slightest idea. My memory gets better by the hour, but it's far from perfect yet."

"I wish I could help you. But I don't have the slightest idea how."

He nodded. "I'm aware. But talking with you helps me find my bearings, to anchor myself in this reality. You have a very special gift, Sandrine. I doubt many living people interact with the departed without prejudice."

My hand found Grandma Elise's pendant, and a warm wave of confidence surged through my veins. "My grandmother was a renowned wise woman. She died too early to teach me much, but I recall her adamant rule to avoid premature conclusions."

"Sounds like she earned the title of a wise woman. Did she by chance leave you specific tips for disoriented ghosts?"

"Not that I remember." I swung my legs over the parapet and admired the orange shades of the western sky, my racing thoughts calming. "But I never planned to become a ghost hunter, so I might have missed the fitting lesson."

He laughed, the endearing sound dissolving the tense knots in my neck. We sat in silence while the sky morphed from orange to grey and indigo, and the full moon climbed over the eastern hills. Theo turned his face to watch it rise, and for the first time, his skin seemed almost translucent, similar to Guillaume's. "Thanks for being you, San. I guess I'll go for a walk, try to figure out a few more things. See you tomorrow."

As soon as he left, the air seemed warmer and stifling again, but I shivered. It was too early to turn in, and my mind was troubled by what I'd learned today, so I visited the library.

For the first time, I had the cosy room to myself and enjoyed the opportunity to browse the shelves and thumb through large-format photo books, biographies, and ancient tomes on natural sciences. My librarian's heart swelled at the precious treasures former castle owners and eager collectors had assembled over the centuries. I was glad Lou appreciated this ancient collection enough to keep it together and accessible. The only thing I missed was a systematic catalogue. Perhaps I could convince him to pay me for making one. I made a mental note to ask him once my job here was done.

A soft knock at the door announced a visitor, and I looked up from a heavy book on local history and plant lore. "Come in, door's open."

Matt peeked through the half-open door. "San, du you have a minute? We need to talk. I found out something important." His frown and narrowed eyes underlined the urgency, so I ushered him in, placing the heavy tome on the coffee table.

"Come in and have a seat." Mister Mortimer slipped through the door before Matt closed it, rubbed his head against my leg, and jumped onto a windowsill to curl up. "How did you find me?"

"That was easy. You love this room, and besides, I mounted a camera in the central stairwell this morning for a few trials." He slumped down on the sofa, placing his pad atop the old book between us. "After the discussion about the picture not showing living people, I tapped on Lou's video surveillance, too. And that got me a few interesting results."

His fingers swept over the screen with professional ease, calling up a surveillance video and, next to it, a window with the blue background of his ghost-sensor recordings. "Do both show the same scene?"

"Not exactly from the same angle, but close to. Theo helped me install a makeshift mount for the spectral sensor. He has a knack for these things, pointed out a ledge I hadn't realised would be an ideal spot to survey the entrance hall. Let me call up the test recording I made a few minutes after setting things up."

He chose a time in a pop-up window, and we waited until the views synched. "That's eleven thirty, the stairwell is empty. At thirty-one, Theo and I come in. Can you see it?"

"Yeah." The left screen showed the two men crossing the lobby and climbing the stairs, headed for the library. The right, blue screen, showed the purple form of a single person, the movements echoing the ones of the men on the left. Then Matt in the video stopped to check something on his omnipresent pad while Theo moved on. So did the purple person recorded by the ghost sensor.

"Do you know what this implies?" Matt double-tapped the screen and froze the image.

I leaned in to study the scene. "Do you see the small red specks in the corner? I bet the ravens follow him around." As I'd guessed, Theo must have been the reason we could enjoy our meals undisturbed by the birds. I wondered if something similar protected Catherine and Alice, who had befriended Guillaume, or Sir Willy, as they called him.

Matt's prolonged silence made me glance up. A deep crevice marred his forehead. "You are not surprised at all. Why didn't you tell me Theo is a ghost?"

I couldn't blame him for the reproachful tone. "Matt, I'm sorry. I only learned of it today too, after our return from the lake, and dinner was not an ideal place to discuss this."

"He fooled even you?"

"Me, and everyone else except Guillaume. Even himself, it seems. I didn't know ghosts can walk among the living without raising suspicion. I always thought that was more a zombie thing."

"Zombies are real?" The crevice made room for raised eyebrows.

I leaned back and sighed. "'There are more things beneath the sun than most of us care to acknowledge,' Grandma used to say. But as your sensor proves, Theo is a ghost, not a zombie. The motivation driving him to haunt us must have been incredibly strong. Strong enough to restore him almost to full life."

"Huh." Matt rubbed his temples and ran both hands through his tousled hair. "I never suspected him being different, even found his style rather cool. Now I feel so stupid."

"Why? I overlooked it too, and we both know your sensitivity for paranormal phenomena is close to zero. It eludes me why you work as a ghost hunter."

He chuckled. "Oh, I might not be ghost-sensitive, but I grew up in a house haunted by a poltergeist. Of course, no one believed me as a kid, and I spent endless nights awake, hidden under my comforter." His light-hearted tone couldn't cover the pain and anxiety this must have caused him as a young boy. I reached out, tempted to offer a supportive hug. But he continued without looking at me. "One night, I found out the ghost was fascinated by my Lego train. While I ran it, it kept quiet, and in time, we came to an unspoken, mutual agreement. I provided it with entertainment, and it let me sleep. That's how I started my experiments, with electric toys first, then moving on to high-tech gadgets."

"And what happened to your ghost?"

"It disappeared, one night after I'd connected—"

The library door opened and Theo joined us, depriving me of the rest of the story. The colour drained from Matt's face, and he edged to the corner of the sofa when our spectral partner sat down beside him.

I suppressed a laugh. "Being dead is not contagious, Matt, at least not in his case. He is a ghost, a manifestation of pure spectral energy. As long as you don't touch him, you're safe."

"You know?" Theo studied Matt's expression, the tension dissolving from his features.

Matt pointed at his screen. "I downloaded the stream from the sensor and found your picture, together with a few ravens."

"Wow. May I see?"

Matt restarted his clip, and soon they both bent over the pad, analysing the recording, their awkward moment already forgotten. Mister Mortimer sent me a knowing glance, and I joined him at the window, leaving the men to their hobby.

Outside, the moon painted the castle walls and the remnants of the lake liquid silver, contrasting the black shadows cast by trees and the fortifications. The cat rubbed his head against my palm, and I scratched his chin. Wondering about the lonely woman down in the cottage, I turned to the men. "Theo? Sorry to interrupt, but do you have news concerning Lorraine?"

They both looked up, and Theo puckered his lips. "That's why I was looking for you. You were right about Lorraine being the woman behind the window." He stood and paced the length of the room, hands folded behind his back and a frown on his face. "She is—she was my wife. And there is one more thing I wanted to tell you. I remember my death."

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