“YOU LOOK DIFFERENT,” PAUL MOSS said, examining Gaia from the doorway of Mary’s room. “What did you do?” Idiot Points Gaia shrugged, staring at herself in the little mirror perched on Mary’s bureau. “Nothing. I put on some fatigues,” she said. “Going to CBGB’s is like going into battle. The mosh pit can get pretty ferocious.” Paul laughed. “Yeah, I guess that’s true.” He took a step forward, then suddenly froze. He sniffed the air. “God, it really smells like her in here.” Gaia’s body tensed. The smile dropped from Paul’s face. She quickly looked away, feeling her throat begin to tighten. She’d noticed the smell, too. And everything else. All of Mary’s perfume was still lined up on top of the bureau. Her jewelry was still strung along the corners of the mirror. Her clothes were still hung up in the closet. (Of course, if she really had been alive, every piece of clothing in that closet would have been strewn out across the room.) Even her computer was still sitting on her desk.
