Spirits desire things. They are covetous. They are curious.

Derrica knows this. And she knows it won’t make this any less painful for Holden, when she inevitably has to pull him away.

There is no configuration of events in which she could leave him here, to be devoured by this place. But maybe he won’t thank her for that, in the end.

Still.

“Jim,” she repeats, firmer, stepping in to the strangeness of this room. “Jim, she isn’t real. I know you want her to be, but she isn’t. Please come with me.”

Please hangs in the air, weighted down by urgency.