That was true, and Hugh knew that sometimes just telling people could be as difficult as the thing itself. And when they knew and it wasn't something you had to wonder when and how you'd have to tell them or how they'd react - it was its own sort of relief. He'd carried enough of those sorts of things in his life, not like this, but things it was easier if people knew than not. "You can tell her that you have a friend a short walk away then," Hugh offered with a warm smile and a slight tip of his glass before he brought it back up to his lips. "I've been remiss in making those, so I'm not just saying that either. Best as I can tell we have at least some overlapping good tastes, and I don't take that for granted these days."
"I feel it's a little like an open secret," Hugh shrugged, thoughtful. "People will talk about things, and at first I flat out disbelieved them, I like Shakespearean ghosts and witches, but I wasn't certain I believed in real ones, but I've had enough experiences while I've been here to make me less skeptical, I suppose."
The idea that energy might gather in a place didn't feel unreasonable to Hugh. He didn't always count himself a spiritual person, regular Yoga and an uptick in Synagogue attendance the past few months not withstanding, he hadn't usually applied much weight to the idea of ghosts, or sacred things, they made for good stories and plot devices, and ways to explain how characters moved and grew, but in any realistic sense? No. But then there had been everything with the film, and the aftermath of it, and then there had been Repose and all the things that had been said and hadn't. "There's a time I think I would have thought that sounded crazy," he replied. "That time is at least 8 months past." There was a beat. "If you've been an archaeologist, you've probably seen a few things then."