Rebecca drifted closer to adjust his pillows so he could lie more comfortably.
Vance suddenly reached out and wrapped an arm around her neck. Though faint, she could feel the pressure.
"I'm sorry for scaring you," he whispered into her ear.
She stayed still. "It's okay."
His hand went lax, and she drifted back up into the air.
His voice was barely audible. "I'm fine now. You can go."
"Huh?"
"Go back to your world. That Vance is rotten. Don't ever forgive him. I'm happy to see you today. Becky, can I call you that?"
"Yeah." Her eyes stung at his bitter tone.
She had never felt so helpless with words. Nothing came to mind—nothing that could reach him.
This was a disease that even ten years later couldn't be fixed, not to mention the medical conditions of this era. Sharp as he was, he had probably known what was wrong with him and how much time he had left.
"Becky, Becky..." he called out over and over, like it had magic.
Her voice cracked. "I... am still here."
"If you ever run into him again, don't like him," he said softly. "Don't get close to him. Treat him like a stranger."
"Him?" she echoed bitterly.
Vance from the other world had passed away. She'd not run into him again, not in this life.
"No matter in a dream or afterlife, stay far away. Ignore any version of him, okay?"
Her lips parted, but she couldn't bring herself to say either "yes" or "no".

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