Nolan was never allowed to talk at the dinner table. This was his father's rule; Nolan learned at a very early age to follow each and every one of his father's many rules. Or else. Nolan still shudders today when he thinks about the "or else."

Nolan and his younger brother Marcus learned to cope with these muted meals by lip-synching their conversations. At first, the boys over-exaggerated each word, lips moving at grotesque angles like a dog trying to lick food stuck to the roof of its mouth. After a while, there was no need for such a display, which at any rate had only threatened to make them burst out into forbidden laughter. They each formed their noiseless words normally, and the other understood what was being said.

The brothers were extremely good at such subterfuge. This was made easier by the fact that their father rarely paid any attention to them while at the dinner table. He would stare off into space as he slowly chewed his food, making calculations in his head, or sketching incomprehensible formulas into a book, pencil in one hand, dinner fork in the other. He never looked at his sons. As long as they remained perfectly silent, he could pretend they didn't exist. The boys read each other's lips, their thoughts and secret ambitions shared soundlessly. All the while, their father remained oblivious, which was fine by them.

This is how it came to be that Nolan is able to understand everything the ghost says to him, even though there is no volume to her speech. She tries to convince him that she isn't a ghost, but this is ridiculous. She's hovering in his room and she's transparent. What else could she be?

Nolan shakes his head but the girl is still there, floating next to his bed like a log on a river. The ghost attempts to engage him again, and again he shakes his head. She tells him he isn't dreaming.

Perhaps his father's madness is hereditary. Perhaps this girl isn't even as real as a ghost.

As if she can read his mind, or maybe because she is merely the product of his imagination, the girl tries to argue against this point.

"I'm real," she tells him.

This jerks Nolan out of the frozen state of panic he's been in ever since the girl appeared next to his bed. If there is anything more terrifying to Nolan than a ghost, it's the thought that he will end up like his father. Perhaps this girl is only the beginning of some sort of delusion-ridden downward spiral.

Nolan leaves before she can communicate anything further.