Sometimes he’s there.
Just there, a ghost of a breath whispering against the back of her neck, telling her to do things that she dare not try were she in her best frame of spirit. Most of the time she ignores him.
Sometimes. Sometimes she punches Heather Duke at a pep rally. Or trips someone who was being a jerk to Martha.
She doesn’t know which voice is stronger most days. The J.D. voice that tells her she’s a free goddess who can do whatever she pleases to, or the one she won back from him, plaintive and sweet.