Eve said, in a high, squeky, airless voice, “The ghost! Yu`re the ghost Miranda was talking about! Oh my God, Michael,you`re the ghost! You bastard!”
The cold spot followed her. “Dammit, Michael, get out of my room, you pervet!” Could you even be a pervert if you were dead? She supposed you could, if you had a working body half the time. “I swear, I`m going to start taking my clothes off!”
The cold spot stayed resolutely put until she got the hem of her T-shirt all the way up to her bra line and then faded away. “Chicken”
