[ The noise of plastic on wood has him hurriedly tilting the remaining candle toward the board. It’s difficult to make out what she’s saying—the lighting is awful now and she’s manipulating the planchette with urgently—but he gets the gist of it. ]

It’s fine, don’t worry. [ Mouth quirked up in a self-deprecating grin, he shrugs. ] I’m just being overly dramatic. Don’t tell anyone I do that, though. It’ll be our secret. And dude, the opinion of a ghost totally counts, okay?