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Nate nodded and got up, grateful to have something useful to do. Bedding. Food. He could manage that.

Leo followed him into the hall.

Nate found his keys beneath a folded receipt and checked that he had his wallet. Leo stood beside the door, watching.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“C’mon, Leo, what is it?”

Leo considered him. “Are you really going to be okay with seeing more ghosts?”

“I’ll be fine,” Nate promised. “I’ll manage, I’ll have you there to help, won’t I?”

“Yes.” Leo straightened. “I’ll tell all the other ghosts to leave you alone.”

A real smile tugged at Nate’s lips. He could picture that. Leo screaming at other spirits not to touch what was his. “We’ll manage somehow,” Nate said. “Now, do you have any suggestions for dinner?”

“I can’t eat.”

“I know, but that’s never stopped you from judging what I’m having.”

Leo had to concede the point. "Get something with vegetables."

"Alright, I'll get veggies on my pizza."

"That's not what I meant and you know it."

"I'll try to grab something healthy," Nate promised before he left the house by himself, desperately wishing that the next time he got into his truck, he could take the man he loved with him.

No matter the cost.

Chapter

Fifty-Three

That evening, once he was sure his mother was comfortable in one of the house’s guest bedrooms—not the one with the huge water stain on the ceiling—Nate went back downstairs.

Leo waited for him in the sitting room, the way he did every night now. Nate retrieved his laptop and sat on the floor with his back against the armchair. Leo settled beside him.

“Working?”

“Just checking a few things.”

Nate opened the page. There were new comments on several of his videos, a message that was waiting for a response, and someone asking a question about the bathroom that he’d already answered twice. He answered it again. This was usually how he spent part of his evening, and after everything that had happened today, answering questions about where he bought his hardware was comfortingly mundane.

Leo leaned closer to read over his shoulder. “You should tell them it’s in the description.”

“I did.”

“Maybe you should put it in all caps.”

Nate smiled and moved on to the video he’d made about Leo. People were still watching it, making comments about the portrait, and the house, and whether they believed any of it.

Someone wanted to know if he’d found out anything more about the ghost.

They had, hadn’t they?