“What?”
“Someone or something has taken a very definite interest in you,” he states.
“Who?”
“Well, that’s the question now, isn’t it?” He licks his bottom lip slowly.
“I saw…” I hesitate for a moment, wondering if I should admit what I’d seen first in the care home and then at the community centre. Then again, this man seems to know far more than he’s letting on. “I saw a reaper, twice now. It looked straight at me. It was almost like it was watching me and then it disappeared.”
“A reaper and yet you live?” He seems genuinely taken aback by my words, although not surprised at the concept of a reaper. “No one has ever seen one twice, and it couldn’t have been looking at you if you weren’t its target.”
“What do you mean?” My stomach trembles with a strange mixture of fear and fascination.
“Reapers only go after those they’re assigned to escort into the afterlife. Any other living being is simply white noise to them. It shouldn’t have even been aware of your presence, and you should not have been able to see it.” He pinches his lip in thought.
“What do you think it means?” I ask.
“I have no idea,” he says, and he seems to be genuine. “I’ve never heard of anything like it.”
“Oh.” I struggle not to sound too disappointed.
“Anyway, I have things to do, so run along. Try to stay out of trouble and tell your friend to stay out of other people’s bodies…” He lifts a brow and I see a fleeting glimmer of humour. “Unless, of course, it's consensual.”
Dusty cackles in delight behind me as Harrison returns to his chair in the corner, picking up a book he was obviously reading before we came in.
“Thank you again,” I say gratefully. “I really do owe you.”
“And I might just collect one of these days,” he says as he opens his book and begins to read. “Oh, and Tristan,” he calls out as I’m about to head towards the door. Without looking up, he points to the corner of the room. “Take that with you, please.”
I turn to see Delores standing there, looking as lost as usual.
“Come on, honey.” Dusty takes her hand and leads her out of the shop. I follow behind them, staring at Dusty’s still-smoking hair as it fills the air with the curious scent of extinguished birthday candles.
We step out onto the pavement and the door closes behind us.
“Well, I have to say, Tris”—Dusty shakes her head politely as Delores offers her handbag—“as fun as it was being alive for a hot minute, I’m glad to have things back to normal.”
“That makes two of us.” I smile in relief.
“What’s the first thing you want to do? Have a latte? Grab something to eat? Take a nap?”
But I know exactly what I want. Or rather, who I want. I grab my phone from my pocket and dial Danny’s number. It barely rings twice before he picks it up.
“Tristan, is everything alright?” he asks, and I hate that I’ve worried him so much over the last few days that those are his first words to me.
“I’m fine, nothing’s wrong. I’m actually feeling loads better and I wanted to see you,” I say honestly. “I miss you.”
His voice softens. “I miss you too.”
“Where are you right now?” I ask.
“Just about to head out to Northwold Community Centre.”
“What? Why?” I reply worriedly. “We haven’t exactly had the best of luck there,” I remind him.
“I know but long story short, we know who is responsible for Delores Abernathy’s murder.”
“WHAT? WHO?” I burst out.
