“My mum always said there’s a lot of presence in a doorway,” he added, staring into one of the eyes. A chill of air trickled down her spine, she could feel the eyes upon her, drawing her in, asking questions and tormenting her very being. “Really? How so?” asked Maggie, with interest. Brick turned his head and presented a puzzled expression. “Well, cause that’s where people come in”

“You were the only one I saw when I closed my eyes," he said bringing his hand up to her chin and tilting her head up to look into his crystal clear blue eyes."Then why wasn't I enough when they were open?" she asked another tear welling in her eyes.”

“And then there was her face: her white skin, her brown eyes, and her expression, so soft and beautiful; she looked as though she were constantly getting ready to ask a question. Even an immaculately crafted doll could not have been as lovely.”

“Karrin smiled faintly and shook her head. "He always said you knew ghosts. You're sure it was really him?"Mort eyed her. "Me and everyone else, yeah."Karrin scowled and stared into the middle distance.Mort frowned and then his expression softened. "You didn't want it to be his ghost. Did you?"Murphy shook her head slowly, but said nothing."You needed everyone to be wrong about it. Because if it really was his ghost," Mort said, "it means that he really is dead."Murphy's face...just crumpled. Her eyes overflowed and she bowed her head. Her body shook in silence.”

“Laurel look up at him in question, but he wouldn't meet her eyes. She always wished she had more time to draw secrets from him. "I'll wear it always," she said."And think of me?" His eyes held her captive, and she knew there was only one answer."Yes.""Good."She started to turn, but before she could step away, Tamani grabbed her hand. Without breaking eye contact, he raised her hand to his face and brushed his lips over her knuckles. For just a second, his eyes were unguarded. A spark went through Laurel at what she saw there: raw, unbridled desire.Before she could look any closer, he smiled, and the flash was gone.”

“Oh my gosh,” Somer whispers, one hand flying up to her mouth. “She’s beautiful.”Krishnan fumbles with the papers and reads, “Asha. That’s her name. Ten months old.” “What does it mean?” she asks.“Asha? Hope.” He looks up at her, smiling. “It means hope.”“Really?” She gives a little laugh, crying as well. “Well, she must be ours then.” She grasps his hand, intertwining their fingers, and kisses him. “That’s perfect, really perfect.” She rests her head on his shoulder as they stare at the photo together.For the first time in a very long time, Somer feels a lightness in her chest. How can it be I’m already in love with this child, half a world away? The next morning, they send a telegram to the orphanage, stating they are coming to get their daughter.”