Whether he'd noticed or not, Death had been keeping an eye on Jason since he'd first announced Cassandra's disappearance. The good thing about not really having a body was that she could watch him silently without smothering him.
If she were younger, she suspected she might have given him even more space. But human contact, it seemed, had made her soft. The thought of Jason going through the motions, facing an empty apartment, eating dinner alone, was just more than she could stand.
So she appeared behind him, quiet and still. "Your shirt," she clarified.