Becoming a ghost was the easiest thing in the world. Holding onto my skin was the hard part—the bullet cut through a big artery. I should have gone ghost immediately, but I wanted to look the gunman in the eyes. With my body going into shock, I carved his face into the depths of my memory.
Dead or alive, I would never forget.
My heart ached for Jane. Twenty-five years together, two kids in college, now she’s alone. Or so she thinks. Being a ghost is how I’ll keep her company. But first, it’s good for something else.
Author’s Note: People must have lots of reasons for becoming ghosts. Not all, I think, are benevolent.