Claire floated in a fog somewhere above her body, and a cold hand took her left one, a warm one her right. She looked over to see Mrs. Soper, whose dark hand twined warmly in hers, and the general’s daughter, who was the cold one.
“What happened?” she asked.
“You kissed him,” the girl said with a grin. “It was very romantic.”
“It was stupid is what it was,” Mrs. Soper told her. “You knew what would happen.”
“I knew, but I hoped it wouldn’t. He said my name, and it only hurt a little. But I need to talk to my father.” She looked at the ghost girl, whose name she recalled was Emma. “Can you find him for me?”
“He’s gone on now that you and the doctor have found each other again and he doesn’t need to watch over you anymore.”
“Oh.” Claire looked down at herself, now carried in Radcliffe’
