Jace was standing at the end of her bed. That couldn't be possible, because he was dead. She blinked, sitting up, and reached out to him, as if asking him to take her into his arms. He smiled, taking her hand, and said, "I have till morning."

She shook her head. "What? No; stay."

"It's a dream," he told her, his face sorrowful, "I have to."

She spent the little time protesting, and when she woke, her cheeks were wet with tears. But she saw him again, the next night. And the night after. But they only had till morning.