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He couldn’t help it; a smile tickled his lips. “Check your bank account.”

Greer furrowed her brow but pulled her phone from her jeans pocket all the same and opened her banking app. Her eyes flew wildly between Jack and the screen and back again.

“How?”

“I had a little help from a friend,” said Jack, gesturing at Margaret’s form in what he hoped was enough of an explanation.

“Oh,” Greer said. “She…?”

Jack began a nod, but before he could complete the motion, she’d thrown her arms around Jack’s shoulders, effectively hugging both him and Margaret. “Thank you.”

Jack hugged her back, squeezing tight enough to feel the joy radiating from her. Despite all the schemes he’d schemed growing up, all the loot he’d looted, this was the feeling he’d been hunting for but never found. This was something that actually mattered.

To both of their surprise, Jack pulled away first. He looked at Margaret’s watch again. “Ah shit, I’ve got to go.”

Greer mopped up her tear-streaked face with the bottom of her tank top. “What are you talking about? Go where?”

“Work,” said Jack. “I’m already late.”

Greer’s face dropped in disbelief. “You’re not actually going to work now? You haven’t slept all night, you’re probably still shaken from everything, plus you said out there in the waiting room that you were finally ready to move on.”

“Oh, that. I didn’t mean from life,” Jack clarified to an eye roll from Greer. “I meant from the past. From how things were before. But I’m not done here yet. Not according to Margaret, anyway.”

Greer sniffed. “Look, Jack, I don’t want you to go. I really don’t. But I’m worried about you. It can’t be healthy, sticking around like this.”

“I know,” said Jack. “And I’m not gonna stick around forever. Honestly. But I told you what Gerard said: there’s a glitch in the balance of life and death, one so bad it’s destroying the natural life cycle. That’s bad, Greer.”

“And you’re going to fix it?”

“I’m going to try,” said Jack. “Since it doesn’t sound like anyone else is. I just need to learn more about what’s going on so I can figure out a plan.”

One side of Greer’s mouth quirked up in a smile.

“What?”

“Nothing,” said Greer. “I just like it when you use your powers for good.” She shifted her weight. “I should get home to Curtis. He was so worried when I told him we were at the hospital. Obviously he doesn’t know the full reason, but I should show him I’m okay. And the girls, they’ve been texting.”

“You need to use your powers for good too,” said Jack.

“I know you think I gave up on my dreams for Curtis,” she said. “But I didn’t. I just found a new dream, and until he got sick, I was living it.”

“I know,” said Jack. “I may be nearsighted now, but I can still see that. Go be with your family. Carter’s here with Eli, and I’ll pop back in at lunch.”

Greer nodded. “It’s funny, sometimes you say something so wholly unlike the Jack I knew that I think it must be Margaret’s influence, but really, I think this might just be the Jack McCoy who’s been in there all along. It’s nice to see him, even if he does look remarkably like an eighty-year-old woman.”

44

The chill in the archives had eased somewhat since Jack’s last visit, Greta’s exclamation mark–like demeanor softening to a semicolon, or perhaps an em dash. She greeted Jack with a curt nod as he approached the desk.

“How can I help you this morning, Ms. Chen?”

“Have you been filing any information about a glitch in death?”

Greta stiffened.

Jack didn’t wait for a reply. “I need everything you have about it.”

“I’m afraid that information is highly classified. Even I’m not supposed to read it beyond the details required for classification.”