Charles's office was on the top floor of the Vaughn Building, a glass tower that overlooked the bay. I had been there many times in my first life. I had always felt small in that room, surrounded by the city and the water and the evidence of his money. Today I felt nothing. I had died in a hospital bed, and the size of a room did not frighten me anymore.
Henry was there, with a laptop and a stack of folders. Diane was there, in the corner, taking notes. Charles sat behind his desk, and across from him was a chair that was meant for me.
I did not sit down.
"I want to see the original contract," I said.
Henry looked at Charles. Charles nodded. Henry opened a folder and slid a document across the desk. It was the original, signed the night of the engagement, two years before my death. I h
