The Lady Upstairs always wanted to tell the girl, the daughter of the current owner, not to be afraid. There was nothing to fear. She was there, it was true, but the girl couldn’t sense her, didn’t see her; no one could sense her, unless, of course, she took on shape. But without shape she was denied presence. It wasn’t that the girl had any special sensitivity: she was just terrified. She went running past the stairs that led to the hotel’s lookout, imagining that there, in the tower—which for years had been the tallest building in Ostende—a crazy woman was hiding, a witch with long hair who
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