Cassie lifted herself onto her tiptoes and peeked out her bedroom window. Just two stories below and over a six-foot wooden fence sat the old cemetery. Headstones scattered the overgrown grass, some covered in moss, others broken and toppled over. Cassie scanned the graveyard, searching for the Lady in Purple. Because it was cloudy, the little girl knew she would see here. The Lady in Purple didn’t like to come out when it was too sunny.

The last time Cassie saw her, the Lady was walking around the graveyard looking for something. Her head swung side to side, and every so often she’d stop and sit, putting her head in her hands and crying. When the six-year-old told her mother what she saw, she laughed and told her daughter that no one walked around the graveyard anymore.

“But, Mommy, I saw her,” Cassie defended. “She is looking for something. Sometimes she talks to the man with the big hat. He seems sad, though. Maybe she’s trying to make him smile.”

Her mother patted her blonde head and told her to go play. Cassie was annoyed her mother didn’t believe her, but it didn’t stop her from looking for the Lady in Purple every day.

Cassie was about to give up on seeing her when the woman appeared. The little girl whispered, “There you are.”

The Lady Purple walked between the old headstones, her dark purple dress brushing against the old stone and the unkempt blades of grass. Her black low-heeled, laced up boots were covered in mud. Her purple overcoat buttoned snuggly at her waist and only a lacy off-white ruffle of the shirt underneath popped out of the top and draped over the big round buttons of the coat. She wore black gloves and a black hat. To Cassie, it looked like a smaller version of the top hat Sir Topham Hatt from Thomas the Tank Engine wore, but the Lady in Purple’s had a pretty black lace veil that hung down her back. Her hair was a deep auburn and it piled in neatly under the hat.

Cassie watched her move from headstone to headstone. The little girl knew which one she’d stop at the longest. She did it every time she saw her. Cassie tried to get closer to the glass of the window as the Lady knelt down in the grass in front of the grave marker. Her back was to Cassie but she could tell that she was talking to the stone. She reached her hand out and ran her fingers over the letters engraved on the front. Soon after, her head was in her hands and she was weeping.

“Cassie! Come downstairs please!” her mother called, startling her and making her jump.

“Ok, mommy!” she called back, before turning to the window and whispering, “Bye, friend. I’ll see you soon.”