Every night when the wind is cold, pedestrians feel a small, icy hand touch their shoulder and hear a soft whisper in their ear: "You saw me, you can't forget me". It is the ghost of the little girl, waiting at the window, desperate for someone to stay and play, yet her touch only brings terror and sorrow. People avoid that street, but her sad smile in the window remains, a haunting reminder of a child lost to the dark.
