As she spoke, Priya realized that the conversation had slipped out of her hands. Somehow, they’d gone from ghost stories to something deeper.
“Interesting,” Ethan said. “So, if God—or this universal light—resides within all of us, then a murderer is just as divine as a saint?”
“Wow. Going straight to the deep end, huh?”
Ethan laughed, but when he spoke again, his tone had shifted. “I’ve missed this, Pri. Talking to you. Hanging out together. I didn’t realize how much until just now.”
Priya’s breath caught. There was no teasing in his voice, no playful edge. Just honesty. She wanted to brush it off, make a joke, anything to deflect the way it tugged at her. But she couldn’t. She’d missed him too.
“I’m sorry for taking Zoe Clompson to our spot,” he said.
“Chloe Thompson,” Priya reminded yet again. “She had you in her sights forever. All the girls did. You had this presence, like you were already heading for something bigger. You didn’t just leave, Ethan. You took a leap. I wish I had that kind of courage. To change the template like you did.”
“What template?”
“The template we’re born into. Like the landing page of a website. It’s the layout we start off with—family, religion, ethnicity, circumstances, birthplace. All the bits and pieces that make up the default design of our life.”
“Only you would compare life to a website.” Ethan chuckled softly. “Go on.”
“Well,” Priya continued, “you didn’t just change your landing page when you left. You rewrote the entire code. Most of us stick to the default settings. If we want something to change, we submit a ticket: ‘Dear Webmaster, please activate the “more money” option on my page.’ Or ‘Dear Webmaster, please clear my cache so I can start over.’ We keep submitting request after request, hoping they’ll get approved. Sometimes we even try to bargain. ‘I’ll quit drinking if you enable this feature,’ or ‘I’ll do one good deed a day if you approve my request faster.’ But here’s the thing—every webmaster is connected to the same universal server.”
“So, you’re saying religions and beliefs are like different webmasters, but they all plug into the same source?”
“Exactly.” Priya couldn’t help but smile. She could dive into the geekiest corners of her mind with Ethan, say things she wouldn’t dream of sharing with anyone else, and still feel completely understood. No judgments. No sneering. Even after all this time.
“And the template we’re born into is sort of a predestined path, but we have the free will to change it if we are brave enough to change the code,” Ethan continued.
“Right, except there’s one thing that’s hard coded into all our pages. And that’s death,” Priya said. “I don’t know how your character is going to outsmart that one, Ethan.”
“Neither do I,” Ethan said with a quiet laugh. “I can’t wait to get my hands on the final script.”
“Well, my final script is already written, and guess what?” Priya said. “I turn to ashes.”
“And I turn to dust,” Ethan said.
“Please,” Priya groaned. “More like stardust, Mr. Hollywood.”
“Ashes to ashes, and dust to dust.”
“Landing pages and ending pages,” Priya quipped.
Ethan let out a slow breath, his voice softening. “I couldn’t have picked a better place for character research than right here with you, Pri.”
The ghost stories on the tip of Priya’s tongue evaporated, replaced by an ache she didn’t expect. The need to flee rose fast, so she climbed out of the casket.
“Well,” she said, “I’ll let you get back to your role.”
“Leaving me so soon, Ashes?” Ethan propped himself up with a smile.
Priya stopped in the doorway and cast a parting glance over her shoulder. The light from the corridor traced the angles of Ethan’s face, giving him a glow that was both haunting and beautiful.
“Enjoy your solitude, Stardust,” Priya replied, before slipping out.
Twelve
Heading to the reception desk,Priya checked Moksha’s voicemail. One message. She listened and then hit Replay.
“Hello, Mr. Solanki,” the caller said. “Jeremy Foster here. I’m following up on the proposal I left with you. My client is eager to close the deal on Moksha. Please call me back at your earliest convenience.”
