“Rip, this is the critical moment here. You have to choose to accept your, your ability, your responsibility. Once you do, there’s no turning back.”
He leaned against another tree and slid into a sitting position. He noticed the grass sticking through Serissa’s bare feet. “So I have to decide, basically, the course of my life from here on out—assuming, of course, I’m not simply losing my mind.”
Serissa stood her ground, summoning Rip with her finger. “Give me your hand.”
Rip climbed to his feet and stepped forward, hesitant. He reached out, unsure what to expect from a dead, intangible girl.
Nor did the dead, intangible girl know what to expect. She had no idea if this would work, but her lips curled up in the anticipation that it might. Serissa slowly interlocked her fingers with his, and they both squeezed.
Contact. Solid contact.
“You’re warm,” Rip said, feeling a soft human hand, indistinguishable from any living person’s.
“Only to you,” Serissa said, smiling at her first physical sensation since…in a long time.
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