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A flash. And there… Madrid. Spain. Midnight. I’m actually here. Finally. I’m standing in this street. This very street. Near the driveway that leads up to Tate’s House. I can’t believe it. I need to savour it. This moment of reckoning… Grey rays of pale moonlight filtered through the trees that were being battered and blown in the fierce wind. A storm. But I felt none of it. I felt as if I’m floating in a breezeless street. Calm. Focused. And weightless.“Come with me,” said the reaper standing next to me. His voice was calm and crisp, as if there was no whistling wind, no thunderous hum around us.“I have unfinished business here,” I replied faintly.“You’re just a shade. A ghost. There’s nothing left for you here. No one will notice you any more,” he continued.“Oh I know I’m dead. But it’s about how. So young. So unfulfilled. I left. I died obsessed and madly in love with the boy who lives in that house over there. Right there. He never even knew I existed. But I had these extreme. And he had to wait until AFTER the book was published?" Sophieasked, making the two women laugh as they back to their flat forlunch.After the meal, during which Sophie listened intently as Amelie filledher in with all the latest gossip and politics at the airline, Sophiereturned home feeling renewed. Thanks to her friends, she was nolonger facing the prospect of a long and expensive lawsuit, she wouldstill secretly receive income from her book and most of all, she wouldstill be employed by the airline, a voicemail on her phone confirmingthat her next flight would be the coming Tuesday. Sophie still had thethreat concerning her second book hanging over her head, but as DrPhillips had said, it wasn't an immediate problem. At that exact pointin time, Sophie had her work- both jobs, in fact- her friends,including a new one in Francine, and the freedom to be as feminine asshe wanted, whenever she wanted.However, as she twiddled her phone in her expertly-manicured fingers,Sophie was forced.
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