He stared at me. “Someone has to sit and comfort the ghost.”

“Sort of. But it’s not like movie ghosts,” I reminded him.

He looked skeptical.

“My parents do shemira all the time, and they’ve never seen any ghosts,” I assured him. “It’s an old tradition to protect the person when they’re vulnerable.

“Anyway,” I said. “What I’m saying is, if you really want to see a body, it’s going to be difficult.”

“Okay. Let’s start with that room where they…” He pointed at the door marked Private.

“All right,” I said, leading him to the double doors. “You ready?”

He took two deep breaths.

“No. But let’s do it anyway.”

Twenty-Nine

“Wait!” Oren barked as I started to open the door.

I froze. “What?”

“You know what?” he said. “Let’s go clean first. We promised your parents, and I don’t want to run out of time.”

Even though what he said made complete sense, I knew he was stalling. It was a little annoying that he kept changing his mind, but I understood. He wouldn’t be able to unsee anything I showed him, so it was best if he was completely and totally sure.

We dusted, vacuumed and tidied up the office, making sure it was ready for my parents to meet with the family of whoever had died. I even filled up the holder of brochures for grief counseling. I did it really slowly, adding…one…yellow…brochure…at…a…time.

If Oren noticed—which I was hoping he had—he didn’t say anything.

Finally everything was perfect and ready. I asked him if he wanted to go to the prep room. I even said it was fine if he had changed his mind and would rather not. We could always go back to the house and work on his memorial project.

But no, he wanted to see the room. Now he was ready.

This time he didn’t stop me when I opened the doors. I flicked on the overhead light, which buzzed a little, making the room bright and almost blinding. The walls were stainless steel from the floor up to about halfway and then stark white to the ceiling. It felt clean and cold like a hospital room.

I tried to see everything like it was my first time too. The floors were speckled but smooth, made of the same stuff as the hallways at school. But in the middle of the floor there was a drain for cleaning. There were several cabinets around the room, holding supplies. There was a counter with a sink, like in a kitchen, but this one was for washing hands, not dishes.

In the center of the room was a big white table. It was sort of like an examination table you’d see at the doctor’s office, but instead of being padded and covered with paper that sticks to your butt, it was ceramic, like a flat bathtub with ridges. It was tilted slightly and had a drain at the end that was positioned over a sink that hung on the wall.