I was dead.
On my way to bring Reid Stone some soup.
According to his driver, Mr. Brooks, Reid's stomach was acting up again, and he was in the hospital.
So I stayed up all night making that soup, hoping it would warm him up a little.
Then I got T-boned at an intersection.
Maybe it was because every single thing I owned had something to do with Mr. Stone, even my ghost couldn't leave him behind.
I rushed through the hospital lobby, heading for his room.
I wanted to see if he was still the same as always, ignoring the doctors, stubbornly glued to his work.
He was a total workaholic, after all.
I slipped through the door frame, careful not to stir up any draft.
Then I saw what was inside and felt my eyes sting a little.
Mr. Stone was indeed in that hospital room. But he wasn't working. And he wasn't alone.
"Careful, it's hot." He bent down and blew on the spoon in his hand, looking as cautious as if he were handling some priceless relic, and I was just the annoying dust smudged all over that relic.
"Thanks, Reid." On the hospital bed, Luke Hayes gazed at him with adoring eyes and swallowed that spoonful of soup.
I felt like a dusty rat, turned around, and was about to bolt out of that room.
And right then, that familiar buzzing sound pulled me out of my frozen state. I saw his incoming call. Jude.
"Go ahead and take it, Reid. Maybe he really does need you." Reid blew on the hot soup, glanced at the phone.
Then, with his pinky, he swiped to decline without a second thought.
Luke's eyebrows shot up for a split second before knitting together. His pale face radiated nothing but understanding. "Reid, maybe you should just go. I'll be fine on my own."
Reid paused what he was doing, picked up his phone, and opened w******p. I watched him find my chat.
Reid: Busy tonight. Don't wait up.
He then scrolled up from that message. It was all me, pouring messages into that void. All read. Yet not a single one ever got a reply.