I close my eyes, remembering the reflection of Grant’s face in the mirror of the sunglasses display. At the moment, it seemed so incredibly real. But now that I’m looking back on it, how could it have been? Grant is dead. I identified his body at the morgue. I attended his funeral, where they lowered his coffin into the ground and buried him six feet under. The only way I could have seen him is if he were a ghost, and I would be so mad if that happened, because it would seriously be a super-cheap twist.
