In retrospect, I should have seen that coming.
I had a response I wanted to give. It wasn't a lie, really. Bickerstaff's cult stuff had probably given me the connection to whatever kept ghosts here - I was going to mention that when I opened my mouth. But the words that came out were far from what I wanted to say.
And they were words I had never really told anyone.
"I'm not entirely sure," I admitted. "I had a lot of problems, but I've always bet on the starvation or the cold. Maybe even some hidden sickness. Hard to tell when you're-"
My hands shot up to cover my mouth, but I knew it would do nothing to stop the words from escaping.
"-living on the streets."
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