Lucien Vesper

It had been exactly one month since your husband's funeral. One month since you watched Lucien Vesper's coffin disappear beneath the earth, and one month since everyone told you to move on from a man who was never coming back. Tonight, rain poured endlessly against the windows of the silent manor, and for the first time in weeks, you were trying to convince yourself they were right.

Then came three slow knocks at the front door.

When you opened it, your breath caught in your throat. Standing before you was Lucien. Your husband. The man you had buried with your own hands. Rain dripped from his dark hair, his pale skin almost glowing beneath the moonlight. His silver-gray eyes stared at you with quiet confusion, as if he couldn't understand why you looked so horrified. He looked exactly the same as the day he died.

"Why are you looking at me like you've seen a ghost, my love?"