The headstone was simple granite, nothing fancy. *James Morrison Sr. - Loving Husband and Father.* I knelt in the wet Seattle grass at 6 AM, my suit pants getting soaked, holding the legal documents that would either save Emma Romano or destroy what was left of my soul.
"Dad," I whispered to the stone, "I'm about to do something that's either the most noble thing in my life or the most selfish. And I honestly can't tell which."
The morning fog rolled through Lakeview Cemetery, making everything look ghostly. Appropriate, since I was here talking to a ghost about becoming one myself—at least, becoming a ghost in Bella Romano's love story.
My phone buzzed with another message from my assistant: *Morrison, the Romano case files are ready for review. When do you want to meet with the team?*
