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Dear Harmony,

   Home at last! Unfortunately I am not able to get up the stairs to your room due to my broken leg. I intend to heal quickly so I can get back to searching. For the time being, your sister is being helpful by bringing boxes down for me to search through. She's a cute little thing, but she talks too much. I guess most six-year-olds are like that, eh?

   She says a lot of interesting things. I know adults often overlook little kids because we think they are stupid and naïve but the truth is, they tend to observe a lot more than we give them credit for.

   Tonight after supper, while our parents went out for a walk together, Jobie sat with me and watched as I went through more of your pictures. Never in my life have I seen a six-year-old with such somber-looking eyes. Suddenly as I passed one, an odd mirrored self-portrait you did—the one you were so embarrassed by, you regretted showing me—and she grabbed me by the wrist. Pointing at the picture she said in a very mature, un-six-year-old-like voice, "That's what she was doing in my bedroom last night."

   Harmony, are you a ghost?