“Nate?” I put my hand on his shoulder and ask out of concern. We stare at the specter. He is still standing before us, looking at him with a mixture of sorrow and pain.

“Rose, he just said son!” Nate breathes out heavily.

“Are you sure he was talking about you and not me?” I didn’t know why I said that. All I was thinking about was comforting Nate. It did work, in a stupid sort of way, because Nate looks down at me in a mocking manner.

“Rose, he said ...