le the other girls in the room remained immersed in sweet slumber.

Just as Fiona began to question whether the song was nothing more than her illusion, her gaze met a pale face outside the window.

Veiled by a cascade of ebony locks, the face appeared worn, burdened with grief, yet undeniably beautiful. It belonged to a woman clad in a flowing white nun''s robe - she clearly was no longer young, but her expression seemed frozen in the throes of girlhood.

Fiona heard no footsteps, yet the woman approached the window, pressing her slender hands against the glass, peering into the collective dormitory of young students. Rather than observing the room''s surroundings, it seemed as if she were still delving into some hypnotic dream world. Her large, vacant eyes stared into the abyss, seemingly oblivious to Fiona''s gaze.

Strangely, Fiona found herself devoid of any sense of terror. She silently beheld the apparition in white, seemingly affected by the woman''s peculiar and chilling beauty, evoking a sense of melancholy within her own being.

After what felt like an eternity, the ghost slowly turned around, then moved towards the other end of the porch. Her steps were soundless, without ups and downs, gliding as if on air, her pallid gown billowing in the night breeze. All the while, she continued to chant the eerie and plaintive ballad:

"But why deny me even his severed head?

So stingy they are, not leaving it instead.

In morning''s glow, our vows were sealed,

To be with my love, through all that life revealed