The joke falls flat, and Nancy reaches out for Eames to hold on to her, to steady her. "Stay with me," she asks him, because if she wasn't touching him, he could easily not be real.

There's another bite, this time on her other wrist, and she lets out a small sort of gasp. "It's not real," she reminds herself. "We- we should leave." If it was truly haunted. "I promised Cooper he could- drink tonight." And the bites may not have been real, but she could swear she felt the pull from her veins, the slow weakening that signaled loss of blood.