Far from the places where the sick are gathered, Cole feels the effects of their illness less. So he can't precisely see the spirits, not in the way one of the ill would, as gently glowing, semi-corporeal clouds of smoke. But he senses it all the same, in a familiar way, feeling their whispers against the Veil.

He waits until Sam's conversation has concluded, or at least reached a pause, before he speaks up. Their duties might have taken them along different paths in the last few months, but he still remembers Sam.

He's sitting on a nearby windowsill, his feet swinging.

"You found a friend."