He expected a question. Did you kill her? He doesn't know how he would have answered. He only knows what the answer would have been.

Her easing up confuses him. He doesn't trust it.

"...Chh. what for? You didn't choose your name. Or your face. You weren't there. And even if reincarnation worked like that, you're not nearly young enough. It's a coincidence. Nothing more." And then he forces a grin, in his voice even when hidden. "Even I got a wierd comment once. Genetics likes to keep us on our toes. Now, are you going to let me do my job or--"

The ghosts are gone.

"...Where the hell did they go?"