Simon shrugs. "Revenge, probably," he says uncertainly. "I think that's what I'm supposed to do. Solve my own murder. Get justice. Or any of that other high-minded shit." If he were corporeal, he'd kick the wall in frustration but he can't, not now. His foot would just go right through it.

"But that's stupid because I can't do any of that. I can't leave. I've tried. The furthest I can go is to the shop on the corner, and I only managed it once. It was exhausting." That's about three meters. He's not going to be able to solve much of anything with that kind of restriction.