There’s a part of Hope that’s still here, intangibly, in the things she left behind: three yearbooks on a shelf, with the wooden duck her grandfather made. A New Teen’s Bible. A desk, a chair, a stack of video tapes, a small TV on the wardrobe. A closet that still holds the tutu she wore as a second-grader. A water bottle. A Dave poster. A bed made a bit too neatly.

The tangible part of her, of course, is at her wake. And Neil’s okay with that. It means he can sit there and touch himself as long as he wants.