"No, the next number is --"

"No."

"What do you mean --"

"Nine."

I looked at her in confusion as she held up 9 fingers, "No, the next number is ten, followed by eleven, then twelve --" I stopped when she rushed towards me and leaned in, her eyes sparkling with curiosity, the tips of her hair shining bright yellow. "What?" I asked.

"Keep going."

I have no idea what's going on but did as I was told, anyway, "Thirteen, fourteen, fifteen," I watched her nod enthusiastically at every number, "sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, ni --"

"That's it!" She snapped her fingers, "That's my age. Eighteen!"

I smiled widely, "That's good, now you know how old y --"

"Wait, is it correct? You just put two nine's together, right?" She stopped before recounting with her fingers again.

I frowned, "Two nine's?"

"Yeah," she nodded as she explained nonchalantly, "the 9 years when I was alive. Plus the 9 years I spent here when I died. That makes me . . . what did you say it was called again?" She thought hard before clapping, "Eighteen! I'm eighteen now."

" . . . "

"Well, I could've been."