Chapter 18
As far as afterlife waiting rooms went, the one where Dell sat was rather soothing. The pale blue walls, bookshelves, and
potted plants reminded her of a cozy reading nook. She wondered if, like the street outside, the room looked different to
everyone with the intention of offering comfort. After all, anyone sitting inside had just died.
She was alone for the time being. Her escort had taken her to the forty-seventh floor and deposited her in the room. She could
tell by the shadow cast under the door behind her that he stood on the other side, blocking her way out. And the door in front
of her on the opposite side of the room was locked. She’d tried the handle twice.
Despite the serene space surrounding her—the gentle classical music tinkling through invisible speakers, the scent of clean
linens and vanilla piped into the air—Dell was the furthest thing from serene. The absolute point of no return waited through
the far door, she was certain.
She paced around the room like a fish trapped in a bowl.
Her nerves were positively on fire. If the room had windows, she would have used the single chair to smash through one and jump.
Surely falling forty-seven floors wouldn’t hurt if she was already dead.
But then what? She’d be on the run in the afterlife?
Did they have police? Security other than the henchman outside the door?
And if they caught her, what would they do with her?
She was already being held prisoner, and she couldn’t imagine punishment much worse than being moved on against her will.
“This is bad,” she said to herself, and continued to pace. She was an expert problem solver, chronically successful at everything
she did. But this was a challenge unlike any other.
Her head snapped up when the far door opened.
“Ms. Rodgers? I’m ready for you now,” another ageless woman the likes of Beatrice pleasantly said like she was calling Dell
in for a dentist appointment. She wore a long, swishing skirt and chunky acrylic jewelry. Her demeanor matched the serene
room.
“Wh-what if I don’t want to go?” Dell asked. Her voice came out slow. Her head felt a little lighter, perhaps from pacing
circles in the room for several minutes.
The woman gave her the softest, kindest smile. “There’s nothing to worry about, my dear. We just have to review your file,
and then you will be on your way. Please, follow me.” She held her hand out, and Dell saw her own arm raise to reach for it.
“That’s it,” the woman said in a near whisper.
The sensation Dell was half dreaming filled her like a balloon. Had she fallen asleep? Why did she feel so soft and fuzzy all of a sudden? Her nerves dissolved, and she felt an overwhelming peace. She could hardly even remember what she’d been worried about.
“Here we are,” the woman said when they entered the next room, a tidy office painted soft green. She led Dell to sit in the
chair facing her desk, and then circled around to face her from the other side.
“I’m a little dizzy,” Dell said. She held her hand to her forehead.
“That’s okay, you’ll feel better soon,” the woman answered. She pulled a file folder out onto her desk. “Now, Ms. Rodgers,
my name is Amy. I am your transition specialist.”
“Cole Lewis is my transition specialist,” she interrupted.
Amy gave her a tight smile. “Not anymore. Please confirm your full name.”
“Verdella Marie Rodgers—Dell for short.”
“Thank you,” Amy said, and made a check mark on her form. “Date of birth?”
“Shouldn’t you already know?” Dell asked, and nodded at the form.
“Yes, but this is the final step to make one hundred percent sure we have the correct person.”
Despite her spinning head, a burst of defiance snapped on Dell’s tongue. “You don’t have the correct person. This is all a
mistake, and I’d like to go home.”
Amy tutted. “You can’t go home. I’ve been assured you are approved for moving on.”
“Then why are we reviewing this list?”
“Protocol.” Amy’s lips stretched into another tight line. “Now please: date of birth.”
Dell was trying to buy herself time, to do what, she wasn’t really sure. Her fate seemed sealed. But perhaps giving Amy the wrong birth date would at least stall the inevitable.
She opened her mouth to recite Jason’s birth date right as they heard a commotion in the waiting room.
“Sir, you can’t go in there!” a deep voice called.
Dell whipped around to look at the closed door behind her. Sounds of a struggle muffled through the walls.
“I’m really sorry to have to do this, but you’ve given me no choice,” a second voice said.
Dell’s dead heart positively sang when she recognized it as Cole’s.
He’d come for her.
The first man let out an amused chuckle before a few loud grunts and a thud like he’d fallen to the floor. A few seconds later,
Cole burst through the office door.
“Dell!” he called, red in the face and reaching out for her.
Amy and Dell mirrored each other and stood at the same time. Dell threw herself at Cole.
“What are you doing here? How did you—?”
“No time to explain. We have to go,” he said. He gripped her hand and pulled her toward the door.
“One more step and I’ll call security!” Amy threatened.
Cole ignored her and bounded through the waiting room, tugging Dell in his wake.
“Where are we going?” Dell asked, desperate with surprise and relief.
“Up.”
“Up?” Dell asked as he pulled her through the waiting room door and into the hallway. She gasped at the sight of her escort doubled over on the floor, writhing like he’d been hit. “Did you do that?” she asked in disbelief.
“Yes. Turns out I know jiujitsu. It came back to me when I decided to come save you.”
“Well, that’s a handy skill to have,” Dell said, genuinely impressed.
“I did it for fitness more than anything, but who knew I would actually need it someday? Come on.” He pulled her down the
hallway just as an alarm started blaring.
“Looks like Amy called security,” Dell said, trying to keep up.
“I expected she would. We don’t have much time,” Cole said in a rush.
Dell looked back to see the man climbing to his feet off the floor. Amy stepped out into the hallway, waving an angry fist.
“You won’t get away with this, Mr. Lewis!” she shouted.
Dell was still shaking the fog from her mind. “Why am I so dizzy? What did they do to me?”
“Mild olfactory sedation,” Cole answered. “Helps with the transition.”
“Is that why the waiting room smelled like clean sheets and vanilla to me?”
“Yep. This way.” Cole towed her around a corner back toward the elevators.
“What did it smell like to you?”
“Peppermint tea.”
“Sneaky bastards,” Dell muttered at the thought they’d essentially drugged her into a cooperative state.
They arrived at the elevators, but instead of pushing the call button, Cole turned them toward a stairwell door. “I don’t have elevator clearance for the top floor, so we’re going to have to take the stairs the rest of the way.”
“The top floor?” Dell asked as they stepped into a cold concrete shaft. “Isn’t that where you go to—?”
“Move on, yes. But that’s not what we are doing.”
“What are we doing, then?”
Cole cast her a grin over his shoulder. “Getting out of here. For good.”
The alarm continued blaring. The sound shattered off the stairwell walls in a painful din, but Dell didn’t mind feeling like
her eardrums were about to burst if it meant escaping.
“I am happy to see your rule-breaking bender continue!” she shouted over the sound.
Cole was taking the stairs two at a time, pulling Dell behind him. If she had needed oxygen, she would have been huffing air.
“Beatrice was always pushing me to take more risks and assert myself, so let’s see how she likes this.” The defiance in his
voice sent a thrill tingling down Dell’s spine.
“How much farther is up?” she asked.
They kept spiraling round and round, rising higher and higher inside the tower. Dell heard a door clang open somewhere below
them and footsteps echo up the chamber.
“We’re almost there,” Cole said. “Don’t slow down!”
Dell sincerely wondered how many floors the building had. “What are we going to do when we get there?” she gasped.
“I found some more fine print in the rule book.”
“Oh?” Dell said, and rounded another landing to the next floor. She silently hoped no one burst through a door above them.
“Yes. There’s a whole section on posthumously visiting earth. Of course it is expressly forbidden without permission—”
“Shocking.”
“And doing it requires generating a level of energy only supervisors have access to.”
“Okay, but I don’t think Beatrice is going to be on board with lending a hand.”
“You’re right, but we don’t need her.”
“We don’t?” she asked when he abruptly stopped on the next landing. “Why not?”
Cole cupped her cheek in his hand. “Because you are strong enough to do it, Dell. Exceptionally strong spirits have the ability to defy the physical laws of the afterlife.
That’s why you could do everything you did on earth. And that’s how you’re going to send us back to the day we met.”
Dell blankly stared at him. “What? I’m sorry, did you just suggest time travel?”
“I did, yes. And if we had more time, I’d take a moment to ask: That’s the thing you can’t believe in all this? But we need to keep going; if they catch us, it’s not going to be pretty.” He smoothed
his thumb over her cheek and gave her an assuring smile.
She couldn’t believe what she was hearing, but then again, they were two ghosts being chased by afterlife security guards,
so anything seemed fair game.
“Okay,” she said, willing to try. “And how exactly do I achieve time travel? And what are we going to do when we arrive back
on the day we met?”
“Avoid our deaths.”
“Solid plan, but how?”
“Well, you’re pretty much an expert at possession now, right? And I’ve successfully done it once before, so we’re going to go back to that ski slope, find ourselves, hop in, and reroute our lives by going to the lodge, and ideally making out for the rest of the day.”
“That sounds completely reckless, and I love it, but you still haven’t answered the time travel part.”