"You would have to die to leave here." Her arms tightened around him again. This time her face hid against his shirt. She didn't want to think about him dying. Not when Mitchell lay at home in a bathtub with hopes he hadn't already gone home. Her shoulders shook with the fight against the sobs that wanted to well up in her throat.
With a soft sniffle, muffled in the fabric, and an attempt to change the subject so she could continue the fight against the tears that wanted to wash over her face, all over again. "The ghosts here are pretty nice. If you don't want them to come in you could just ask them not to?"