By Friday she was back at work, having been afraid to take any longer away from her precious experiment. She was still unable to shake the feeling that someone was watching her, or that they somehow disapproved. It had been the same ever since she had left her father’s grave. She told herself wryly that, if it was him, then at least they were getting to spend time together. They had had little to do with each other towards the end of his life, although there wasn’t any real enmity between them. She had simply been caught up in her work, while he had become increasingly obsessed with the possibility that the soul was a physical fact, rather than a fanciful apparition. She had smiled grimly as she read his notes on his last experiment. They were detailed and no doubt accurate. He had believed fervently that any experiment was pointless if it was not properly and truly recorded. How had such a revered mind managed to dedicate itself so completely to such a pointless theory? When there was so much genuine need for information, she found it impossible to understand why he would spend so much time and effort on such a futile task.
She looked down, suddenly aware for the first time of her fists, balled tightly in anger that he would waste his mind on such a futile cause. How could he have cared so little about her, his daughter, that he had killed himself through a stupid, worthless experiment? She had lost her mother, just as he had his wife and yet she had not turned her back on the world, on her family.
“But you did turn your back, didn’t you?” His voice spoke directly to her brain, bypassing her ears. Despite the sudden cold, his breath was warm on her neck as she caught a faint waft of his scent. Behind her the blinds rattled although there was no breeze. She shuddered. In her least confident moments she fancied that it really was her father, following her when he had no-where else to go. She hoped not. That would mean that his experiment had been a success; that he had succeeded in separating body and spirit but had, for some reason, been unable to return once the spilt had occured.