Where
"Look," he whispered. "Just like on the mirror Sunday night."
is
Charlie pointed to the growing string of letters. "She can sing a song, why don't she talk?"
the
Good question, Lyle thought. He shook his head. He had no answer.
"Look like the spirit writing we fake," Charlie said, "only a thousand times better."
nice
"Because this isn't fake."
Spirit writing... all it took was a fake thumb tip equipped with pencil lead, but now he was witnessing the real thing.
The sentence ended with a question mark.
Where is the nice lady?
Lyle heard Charlie breathe, "Gia. You was right. They connected."
"She went home," Lyle said in a voice that was perhaps too loud.
Why?
"She doesn't live here."
Will she be back?
"I don't know. Do you want her to come back? I'm sure she'll come if we ask her."