Early entries ran along the lines of Incorporeal. Invisible to all with some exceptions. Some animals appear to sense her. Most cats, for example, though cannot entirely be sure since cats do not talk. Can, with some effort, make herself invisible to me. Have asked her not to do this. Find it worrying. Does not sleep. Does not need food. Says she believes it is possible she can taste things that I (Ty) eat. Will test this—Livvy wait in other room while I taste various foods—but not the most pressing of experiments, and there is the question of whether or not this is entirely related to Livvy’s current state or whether it is due to being twins or the undeniable fact that I have made all of this happen. Magnus says there is very little reliable information. Sense of smell unimpaired. Tested her on clean and dirty socks as well as various herbs. Insensible to extremes of heat or cold. Says that she is happy to be here with me. Says that she loves me and wishes to stay with me. Proof, can we assume, that some things (some emotions or relationships) survive the grave?

“No?” Livvy said. Often, while Ty wrote, she hovered at his shoulder, to see what he wrote down and to qualify his notes with her own observations. But at the moment, she was more interested in something she had discovered carved into the wall just below the headboard of Ty’s bed. If she made an effort, she could push herself through the wooden headboard, just like a ghost in one of Dru’s movies, who could walk through walls. How she would have liked to show off this ability to her sister—but she and Ty had agreed that she should not manifest in front of the rest of their family.

Behind the headboard of Ty’s dorm-issue bed, the tops of letters just faintly visible, someone had gouged a rough sentence into the wall, and a date. “‘I did not choose this life,’” Livvy said out loud.

“What?” Ty said, sounding startled.

“Oh,” Livvy said hastily. “That’s not an observation, Ty. It’s something that someone carved here on the wall. There’s a year, too. ‘1904.’ But no name.”