Tracy Vetter was not a happy woman. Spirit... Ghost... Whatever the hell she was.
The last thing she clearly remembered was being shot, possibly in the head, then... nothing. Worlds and worlds of nothing, as far as the eye could see, if that was the appropriate phrase for the matter. Wasn't there supposed to be a bright, white light or a tunnel or something? What a gyp!
She felt... different than how she had before: lighter, perhaps, but at the same time, more tied down. And frankly, she didn't like it.
It was about time for her to take stock of herself. It was time to open her eyes and see what was what.
Oh no. No way. There was no way she was haunting Nick. Of all people...
But in a way, it was all starting to come back to her now. You could have trusted me.
'You bastard, you could have trusted me!' she railed to herself. 'If I could handle Vachon, I could have handled you as well!'
The lack of trust was infuriating. Not that she had breathed a word about Vachon, and... and...
And what exactly was going on here anyway? She recognized Lacroix -- he was a tough guy to forget -- and Nick and... Was that Natalie on the floor over there? There was a flash of light over the coroner's still form, and... and she thought she knew exactly what that was: what she had missed. Still, she wasn't really picking up too much, then...
"Damn you, Nicholas."
09 August 2010
You have no idea how long I've been waiting to do this.