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“I know what I said.” Nate stopped moving the chair. “But I was watching that one video last night where you peeled the wallpaper and took a bow afterward. And in the video I stared at the wall and pretended I had no idea anything was happening.”

“That was the plan.”

“Yeah. I don’t like the plan anymore.”

Leo wasn’t sure what to say to that. He’d never particularly liked that part himself, but it had mattered to Nate. A lot.

“You can ask people if they recognize me without telling them you talk to ghosts,” he pointed out.

“I know.”

“Then you don’t have to do this.”

“No, I don’t have to. I want to.” Nate looked at him. “I don’t want to pretend that you’re not around anymore.”

“You only do that when the camera’s on.”

“Yeah, but I spend half my life filming.”

That was true. Leo couldn’t argue with that. Still, he felt like Nate wasn’t thinking this through. “People aren’t going to be kind to you.”

Nate rubbed his forehead. “I know. I’ll deal.”

“You make it sound very simple.”

“I’m not saying it’ll be simple. I’m saying I still want to do it.”

Leo glanced at the painting again. He liked the idea of people seeing it. He liked it a great deal, actually. But he didn’t like the thought of those same people saying cruel things about the man who’d painted it.

Nate had enough problems. Several of them were Leo.

“Maybe you could think about it for another day,” he suggested.

“Do you not want me to?”

“No, I do want you to,” Leo said. “I’m trying not to be selfish. I think I was selfish a lot when I was alive. And that’s why...”

He stopped.

In his mind’s eye, he saw the young man on the cot. His crying face.

“Did you remember something else?” Nate asked.

“No.”

“Then you don’t know.”

“I know that you spent most of this morning feeling terrible because you spent the night with me.”

“I wanted that too. That wasn’t you being selfish.”

Leo folded his arms. “That’s not the only thing. You worked hard for all this. Your videos. Your business. You told me how much it mattered that people liked what you did.” Leo gestured toward the phone. “They’ll still remember you telling tales about ghosts when...”

“When what?”

Leo made himself finish the sentence. “When this doesn’t work anymore. When the tea’s gone, or you finish the house, or whatever happens. You’ll still have to go out there and deal with them. They won’t forget just because I’m not here.”

Nate sat on the edge of the table. “You’ve been thinking about this for a while, huh?”