"They're fading," Fisher admitted, although this was not necessarily a sign that Ita's parents were moving on. "Your mom looks a little fuzzy around the edges. But she's still smiling, so I think that's good."
Talking about death was a hard thing for Fisher to do. He hadn't had a lot of experience with death, despite his having seen ghosts all his life. The only person he'd even known who had died was his father's best friend from college, and that day had been nothing but disaster.
"I dunno if they'll come back," he told Ita, as her parents became less and less clear to see. "I'd guess they will. Just because they didn't seem ready to let you go yet, now that they have a means of communicating." Streva reached out and touched her daughter's hair, a tear gliding down her cheek. "Hurry up and say goodbye," Fisher told Ita. "They're about to go."