Under_The_Whispering_Door_by_TJ_Klune

“You don’t need to sleep.”
Wallace flinched. “What?”
Hugo stared at him curiously. “Have you slept since you died?”
Well … no. He hadn’t. But there hadn’t been time. He’d been far too busy
trying to make sense of all this drivel. The very idea of sleep hadn’t even
crossed his mind, even when things had gotten a bit hazy and he’d found
himself at his own funeral. And then Mei had shown up and dragged him to
this place. So, no. He hadn’t slept. “I had things to do.”
“Of course you did. Are you tired?”
He wasn’t, which was strange. He should’ve been exhausted. With
everything that had happened, he expected to be drained and moving
sluggishly. But he wasn’t. He’d never felt more awake. “No,” he muttered.
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“You’re dead,” Hugo reminded him. “I think you’ll find sleep is the least
of your worries from here on out. In all my years as a ferryman, I’ve never
come across a sleeping ghost. That would be something new. You could try, I
suppose. Let me know how that works out.”
“So what am I supposed to do?” Wallace demanded. “Stand here and wait
for you to wake up?”
“You could,” Hugo said. “But there are more comfortable places for you
to wait.”
Wallace scowled at him. “You’re not funny.”
“A little,” Hugo said. “You can do whatever you want, so long as you
don’t leave the grounds of the tea shop. I’d rather not have to chase after you
again.”
“Whatever I want?”
“Sure.”
For the first time since he’d arrived in the tea shop, Wallace smiled.
“Mei.”
“G’way.”
“Mei.”
“Time ’zit.”
“Mei. Mei. Mei.”