"No," she says, shaking her head. "No, there's no one else like you."

Right now she isn't sure if she's grateful for that or not. Maybe if other dead people were here, this wouldn't be so horrifying for her, maybe if someone else like him existed, she'd be able to bring him to them and just ask them for their help and then leave the entire situation behind. Maybe she wouldn't be so upset and bothered by the entire thing. She feels guilty for her own fear and has no idea how to make it stop.