"Not a ghost," argued Jen pulling the door farther.
"Chill," whispered Leonard hiding the phone, "-you'll break the damned door."
"No, hell no," she waltzed across to pull his cheeks, "-is that you, Igna?"
"'eah," the reply came with mispronunciation with her continuing to pull. "Please stop."
"I'm glad you're alive," nodded Lampard with a load off his shoulders, "-I really thought you died there," he held out a hand, "-since we're going to share a room, let's be friends?"
"Sure," the firm grasp shone a flicker of relief across their faces. Rena didn't seem all too pleased. She remained by a bed unpacking her backpack without care of what happened to the left.
"I'll take the bed by the window," voiced Igna, "-it's better this way."
