Right before I died, I looked my wicked stepmother in the eye and gasped, "Grandpa left me a hundred million dollars... the money is hidden... it's hidden in..." I didn't get to finish. I flatlined. My stepmother, tears streaming down her fake face, screamed at the doctor, "You heard her! Bring her back and I’ll give you half!" The doctor raised his hands dramatically. "By the power of Thor, I banish the darkness!" Zap. Literal lightning struck down, turning my gorgeous body into a piece of charcoal. I stood next to the bed in spirit form, smiling beatifically. Thank you. Seriously. 1 I knew about my stepmother’s plan to kill me and stage it as a suicide ages ago. Don't ask how. Let's just say I have a gift. My soul can detach from my body at will. As long as my physical shell remains intact, I can hop back in within two hours. So when I found out she hired a hitman, I was thrilled. I was sick of playing nice with that snake. I figured I'd pull a Houdini—let her think she succeeded, then sneak off abroad with my inheritance. My dad could rest easy in his grave knowing we weren't fighting anymore. But... what the hell is this doctor doing? Did he just barbecue me? "By the power of Thor"? Who does he think he is, an Avenger? My stepmom was so shocked she forgot to fake-cry. Her jaw hit the floor. "It... it’s burnt?" The doctor scratched his head, looking sheepish. "Sorry about that. Just learned that spell. Haven't quite mastered it. I got a little excited when you mentioned fifty million." Wow. This guy has a way with words. I hovered over him, hands around his spectral neck, screaming, "You quack! Die!" 2 Watching my beautiful, curvy body turn into a briquette was heartbreaking. But what’s done is done. I needed a new ride. Ideally, someone who just died. Freshly deceased. If I jump in fast enough, I can reboot the system. Where do you find fresh bodies? The hospital, obviously. I floated into an operating room. It was a bloody mess. C-section gone wrong. I heard the doctors say she was hemorrhaging and fading fast. I was grinning at the opportunity until a mournful gaze pinned me in place. The woman, a weeping beauty, stared right at me. "I didn't think anyone would smile at my death." Me: "It's not personal." She blinked. "You can see me?" "Yeah, we're both dead. Well, you're dead-dead. I'm just shopping for a rental." She was shocked. "Are you... gifted?" "Sure. Look, lend me your body. I promise I’ll take care of it. I’ll do yoga and everything." She hesitated, but the frantic voices of the doctors pushed her. "Patient has flatlined! The baby isn't out yet!" "Get the baby out! Prepare the defibrillator!" The woman practically knelt before my spirit. "Okay. Take it. Just save my baby. Please." The nurse shouted, "We have a pulse!" I dove into the body. Pain—searing, blinding pain—hit me instantly. I screamed and rolled right back out. "Patient flatlined again!" The woman looked panicked. She grabbed my spirit and shoved me back toward her corpse. "Pulse is back!" I howled. "It hurts! It hurts so bad!" 3 Childbirth is a scam. It hurts like hell. Never doing this again. I asked the woman's spirit, "No anesthesia?" "The doctor didn't give me any." Excuse me? "I don't know why. He just said no." This sounded familiar. It reminded me of a trashy web novel I read. The female lead needed surgery, but the CEO's "White Moonlight"—his first love—bribed the doctor to withhold anesthesia. The female lead died of pain. I sweated through my new skin. "Wait. Is your name Wendy?" She widened her innocent doe eyes. "How did you know?" "Just a lucky guess." I remembered crying my eyes out reading that book. The author had the nerve to resurrect the heroine later so she could end up with the scumbag CEO. I spent weeks DM-ing the author, thanking her ancestors for the trauma. Wendy tugged at my spectral sleeve. "Please. Help me. I don't want my baby to grow up without a mom." I didn't want to deal with this mess, but honestly? I didn't have a choice. 4 The moment Wendy died, the Reapers showed up. Mist filled the room. Two figures emerged—one tall and thin, one short and stout. Hats on their heads. "Get Rich" written on one, "Peace on Earth" on the other. I sat up in the spirit realm (while technically occupying the body) and waved. "Hey, boys. Long time no see." The White Reaper froze. He glared. "Quinn? You died again?" "Hey, accidents happen. Look, I'm borrowing Wendy's body. You guys can take her soul, but leave the vessel." The Black Reaper growled. "Quinn, go find your own body. This one still has fate attached to it..." The White Reaper nudged him, cutting him off. "Fine. Take it. But you have to resolve Wendy's regrets." What regrets? A scumbag ex and a baby. I nodded vigorously. "Got it. Trust me, I won't let her get back together with that trash bag. I'll ruin him." The White Reaper sighed. "No! I mean, you have to follow her destiny..." "Haha, no way." "Then no deal." I blew on my ghostly nails. "Think about it. If I follow her destiny, I have to date that scumbag, marry him, sleep with him... if The Boss finds out..." I gave them a knowing look. The Reapers shut up. They knew I meant business. Wendy was tugging my sleeve again. "My baby... save my baby." "See? She wants me to save the kid." The White Reaper looked pale. "Quinn!" "Tell your Boss I said hi." "Quinn..." "Bye!" I waved them off. "I'll raise the kid. I'll crush the mistress. I'll grind the scumbag into dust. Trust me. Ciao."
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