Maybe it's because she's a kindred spirit, someone who can see the things he sees. He's never had that back home, at least not until Ben died, and that was its own special hell. To be constantly reminded of the mistakes you've made, haunted by the ghost of a brother you couldn't save.

It scared him. Terrified him. That one day maybe he'd wake up and see the rest of them, too. Diego and Allison and Luther, all mangled by some villain. Even Five, before he had come back. The other spirits clawed at him, wanting the one last breath of life he could provide by conjuring him. But Ben had been a silent phantom, a specter just at the edge of his vision when he was hazy and trying to block out all the ghosts that held him down.

How different had it been, when it had all been so clear. When he was sober, tied to a chair, surrounded by two dozen ghosts all fighting to say their peace. And they had listened to him. Had calmed when he'd talked to him. Had spoken of their last moments. And it had been a sort of justice, driving a wedge between Hazel and Cha-Cha.

Klaus is lost in thought as he comes into the shop, hand wrapped around the dog tags he keeps around his neck as he tries to think. Until he stops, and stares, and sees a woman in an old fashioned dress sitting at the tarot reading table.

"Er... were you expecting a client?"