Violet spends her days doing things that could be left undone, like climbing on chairs and counters to dust the top of the fridge and all the cabinets in the kitchen. There is no real point to it, and if she fell, she’d never be forgiven her for doing something so reckless. But she can’t sit still, it’s been like this for weeks. She laughs in response, understanding the itch, so to speak,  ‘ would you like to go somewhere? You have a car, don’t you? ’

          ‘ Wait -- you -- you can see me? Really? ’  Cassandra attempts to leap forward, and pull Ollie into a too-enthusiastic embrace, but passes right through them. She laughs brightly, still overjoyed to be seen --- how long has it been, days? Months? She tosses her hair (still curled and held together perfectly, with the exception of a few stray strands from a struggle) back over her shoulder, revealing a gouge by her collar bone, where the strap of her nightgown rests against her skin.  ‘ You have no idea how glad I am to see you! ’

          ‘ Hi, sorry, this is really  ---  you probably get this a lot, right? It’s just ---  my sister’s kid, ’ her kid, now, she guesses. It’s not a pleasant thought, and certainly not one she intends to dwell on. God damn, Cassandra, having a kid you knew you’d never be able to keep.  ‘ She really likes you, y’know. And she’s, like, twelve. It’d make her day. Her week, even. Would you mind, uh, signing something? For her. ’