“Then, besides being very shimmery, what does a grim reaper do?”

“You know, everyone says I’m really bright. I don’t see it.” She studied a hand, turning it over and over. “Neither do the living, thankfully. But I pretty much just hang out and help the departed with their unfinished business, for lack of a better phrase, those who didn’t cross initially and are wandering the Earth. And when they’re ready, they can cross through me.”

“Through you?” I asked, a little stunned. “Literally?”

“Yeah. Didn’t I mention that?” When I shook my head, she said, “I hope that doesn’t scare you.

You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” She burst out laughing, and I was slowly drifting back to my three-legged horse paradigm. After a moment, she sobered and said, “Okay, too soon. Newbies don’t have the best sense of humor.”

“Sorry. I’m a little dead right now.”

She smiled and nodded. “That’s good. You’re catching on.”

I smiled, too, but I turned away so she wouldn’t see. I didn’t want to get too comfortable here, in this place of void, of loneliness.

We pulled into the parking lot of a Presbyterian hospital and made our way up to the maternity ward. That was when I realized what she was doing, checking to see if anyone died in labor or something like that. Shame consumed me. I’d made the decision to die. I felt it. I would never have made it to the delivery ward.

“Are you really going to drink both of those?” I asked her.

“Oh, no. This stuff is currency ’round these parts.”

As we got closer to the ward, she turned to me, unwrapped an index finger from one of the cups and placed it over her mouth, shushing me.

“Why do I have to be quiet? I thought no one could hear.”

“Because you’ll ruin the mood.”

I frowned as she flew to a sidewall and flattened herself against it. After checking up and down the hall, she eased to her right, closing the distance from us to the maternity ward. She almost slipped—on nothing, absolutely nothing—caught herself with a soft gasp then plastered herself to the wall again, a long sigh of relief escaping her.

Oh yeah. She was nuts.

A female voice echoed against the walls, originating from a speaker by the locked entry door.

“Davidson, what are you doing?”

Charley gave up the pretense and pushed the button. “Nothing. Over.”

“This isn’t a walkie-talkie, Charley.”

“Got it. Over.”

After a soft chuckle, the voice asked, “Would you like to come in?”

“Would you like a mocha latte?”

No other words were spoken. The doors opened. Charley offered me a satisfied grin and raised the cup. “Told you. Better than gold.”

We ended up at a nurse’s station where two nurses sat filling out charts.

“Not that I’ve actually tried gold,” Charley added, whispering over her shoulder.

One of the nurses looked up, a gorgeous Hispanic woman with a short bob and almond shaped eyes. The hunger on her face said it all. She grabbed the coffee and took a hesitant sip, blowing into the opening on the lid first.

“It’s been ages. To what do I owe the pleasure?” she asked, a dreamy countenance coming over her after she swallowed. Then she chuckled, stepped around the desk and gave Charley a bear-like hug.

“Well—”

“Your hair is wet,” she said, interrupting. “Charley, I swear. It’s, like, seven degrees out.”

“No way. It’s nine at the lowest.”

I looked around as Charley and her friend caught up on the everyday goings on of life. The rooms around us were dark, but of course I could see tiny beds and massive machines and I realized we were on the preemie ward. Just being there seemed to reawaken something within me. A longing. A desire. A blinding need to create and protect, so powerful that it almost hurt. I clawed past it, pushed it back down and steeled myself against its talons.

“So you’ll call around?” Charley asked as I turned to head back. I stopped short a moment, stunned once again by her beckoning light, the glittering aura that encompassed her.

“Absolutely. I know several nurses at each hospital. I’ll find out.”

“What is she looking for?” I asked Charley, retracing my steps.

“Oh, excuse me one minute,” she said to her friend and opened her phone again. Apparently her friend didn’t know about me. “Hey, what’s up?”

“Um, okay, what is she loo—”

“Right, Nancy’s looking now. Keep your panties on, Uncle Bob. We’ll figure this out.”

I thought she might actually have a call this time, then she looked directly at me and winked.

“Uh-huh, she’s looking for anything like that. A pregnant woman in her late twenties who might have died recently. She’s checking all the hospitals in the city.”

I glanced at the floor. “But if I took my own life—”

“We don’t know that.” She touched my hand to bring me back. “We don’t know what happened.”

Just then, her brows bunched together and she looked past me, her expression suddenly annoyed.

Turning, I saw it too. Him. Reyes. In all his glory. He stood down the hall from the nurse’s station, gazing through a glass panel into one of the rooms with all the big machines and tiny beds. I got a better look this time at his corded arms, thick chest, shadowed jaw that outlined his mouth to perfection.