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But…

He answered ‘yes’ before he could think too much about it. The back of his neck prickled and he rolled his shoulders, dislodging the itch.

Avery stared at the photo, running her finger up the side of his face. He felt it in his bones, echoing like the crash of thunder or the waves below.

“Wolfe?” she breathed, and the oddest thing began to happen. “R.J. Wolfe?”

His name was like a siren’s call, all of his person began to move toward the sound of her voice. Whatever energy made him up began to rise, twisting like a flower to the sun.

Wolfe began to glow, the outline of his body slowly coming together at the other end of the table.

When he met her startled gaze again, he swore she could almost see him.

Chapter 7

I sat on the floor, hands white-knuckled around the table.

It was him.

It was him.

Suddenly, all my questions fled from me.

I wished I could see him. Look at the face that had been captured so perfectly on canvas. I licked my dry lips, heart a sickening drum beat in my chest.

“It’s nice to meet you,” I said hoarsely. “An unfair advantage, no? You can see me, but I can’t see you.”

Again, the piece of paper with the word ‘yes’ moved a tiny bit.

For a moment, I almost thought I felt his amusement, heard him laugh.

“Do you um, do you look the same?” I touched the picture. “Like this still?”

Yes.

My breathing turned uneven. “You were young when you died then.”

Yes.

“I’m thirty. I’ll be thirty-one in November. I’ll actually be here for my birthday.”

Why.

I hesitated. “Why will I be here?”

Yes.

“There’s not a whole lot waiting for me in New York. My family isn’t close. I don’t have many friends, apart from my agent, Marissa.”

This time, the nudge was impatient when it came. Why.

I shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess my work became my life and now I’m worried it’s gone.”

No.

I huffed. “No? You don’t think so?”

No.