“I’m not religious.” Vaughn shook his head.
He was in his home office, sitting in his computer chair on a Saturday evening. The look on his face as he regarded the ghost with great disapproval was evident through the knitting of his brows.
“So, you haven’t gone to a church? Ever?” Wallace stood in front of his desk, arms crossed over his chest.
“My parents are not religious, so… growing up, my sister and I never spent Sundays or any days in a church, except for a few occasions, like funeral masses.” He shrugged.
“Oh, I think that’s bad. I mean, spiritually speaking, you need something for your soul, don’t you?”
“You can be spiritual without being religious, Wallace, FYI,” he almost snapped. “If you are—I mean, if you were—how did it work for you now?” His eyes implied the specter’s cu
