Without the presence of the living to give them a common interest, the ghosts intersected randomly. They banded together in temporary alliances, which almost immediately fell apart.
They were unable to connect with each other or to see beyond their own obsessions.
They were like animatronic robots at Disneyland, performing the same little psychodramas over and over again, but without an audience to watch them.
The Harmons were the only alliance that lasted. They, along with Moira, their loyal housekeeper, were a family forever.
The other ghosts, lonely, each one trapped in his or her individual nightmare, looked on in envy.
Chad could feel Patrick nearby. His ex-boyfriend might even be in the same room with him, just choosing not to make himself visible.
He knew that Patrick had recently been having sex with Hayden. Women weren’t Patrick’s first choice, but they
a choice for him, while for Chad they were not. Their sex had been kinky and violent and noisy.
Very noisy, so that it had been impossible for Chad (or for Ben Harmon) to ignore what was going on.
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