The Ghost, the Groom, and the Misplaced Bouquet

Amelia nervously smoothed down her lavender bridesmaid dress for the tenth time. It was supposed to be a joyous occasion – her best friend Clara's wedding – but Amelia felt anything but joyful. A persistent chill snaked its way around her ankles, despite the balmy summer weather. And then there were the whispers. Faint murmurs that seemed to emanate from the very walls of the charming old Victorian mansion where the ceremony was being held.

Clara had chosen this venue because it was rumored to be haunted by a lovelorn ghost named Alistair. Amelia, a firm believer in all things paranormal, had been secretly thrilled. She'd always dreamed of meeting a ghost – preferably a handsome one. But so far, Alistair hadn't made an appearance.

As the guests began arriving, Amelia found herself drawn to a dusty antique mirror tucked away in a shadowy corner. It was ornate and silver-framed, with a faint crack running down its center like a ghostly tear. As she peered into its depths, the whispers intensified, swirling around her like a spectral wind. Then, for the briefest moment, a face flickered in the reflection – pale, with tousled dark hair and melancholic blue eyes.

A shiver ran down Amelia's spine. Alistair? She blinked, and the image vanished. Had she imagined it?

The ceremony began. Clara, radiant in her ivory gown, walked down the aisle towards her beaming fiancé, Thomas. Amelia smiled and tried to focus on her friend's happiness, but the whispers persisted, nagging at the edge of her consciousness.

During the vows, something truly peculiar happened. The bouquet Clara was holding – a cascade of white roses and delicate lavender sprigs – suddenly rose into the air, as if propelled by an invisible hand. It floated above Clara's head for a moment, then began to drift slowly towards Amelia.

A gasp went through the assembled guests. Clara looked bewildered, Thomas concerned. Amelia, frozen in place, watched in stunned silence as the bouquet landed gently in her hands.

A giggle echoed behind her. Turning, Amelia saw no one. But the whispers had become clearer now, tinged with amusement.