Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

When Michael and Lisa died, Taffy’s world shattered. She’d come with Lisa’s dad to her grave only once. She’d been numb up to that point. That was the day when the anger set in. Taffy hated Lisa for killing Michael. Poor, sweet, intelligent Michael.

But soon, she began to question if Lisa was really behind those killings at all. Taffy visited her grave three times that week. Whoever that man—creature—was had done the killing. Maybe Lisa was just the easiest target for the public, as the man could not be identified. Some questioned if he actually existed; many said Taffy had made him up.

Two months after the murders, Taffy had become numb to it all again. She’d stopped by to see Michael only once. It was too much on her still, as just thinking of him could sometimes trigger a flashback to his death. As for her mother, she’d been to her grave a couple of times because she missed her. But when it came to Lisa, she kept visiting every couple of weeks, unsure why she felt this pull towards her. It could have been grief, or it could have been confusion. In the end, though, it was probably because something about it all bugged her, tickled at her mind that there was more to the story than everyone said.

After six months, she’d begun to listen to everyone around her: Lisa was a psycho due to the trauma she’d suffered as a child. So she stopped visiting altogether. She was only hurting herself more by holding onto this trauma.

It had been a year now since Lisa’s death. Taffy bent down and wiped back a few of her tears with her sleeve before she removed the weeds that had developed around Lisa’s grave. It was hard for her to believe Lisa was a psycho killer. Or maybe she didn’t want to believe it. But either way, the more she looked into things, the more it felt like there was something nobody was telling her. Or maybe they didn’t know anything either and were too afraid to find out.

“I wish I could just understand,” Taffy pleaded to Lisa’s grave. She touched the cool stone, as if it held the mysteries of life. A stray cloud—the forecast had said there would be rain later tonight—managed to blot out the sun as she felt the cool granite under her fingertips. Before she could fully comprehend what was happening, cold fingers brushed against her neck, which was quickly bent at an angle. She felt the sharp sting of a bite. The world grew fuzzy as her vision blurred, and seconds later, everything went dark.

She came to on the ground some time later and sat back against Lisa’s grave. All she knew was that it had been sunny, and now it was night and rain was trickling down on her. The ground was muddy, and thunder cracked in the distance. Her hands and arms folded into her muddy jacket as she tried to stop herself from freezing to death; she was shivering and exhausted like she’d never been before. Lightning blazed through the clouds above, illuminating a small pool of blood near her. Taffy looked down through blurry eyes at herself and realized she was bleeding from somewhere she couldn’t see. Her neck and shoulder were sore. And her memories from right before she passed out were confusing and muddled. Perhaps she had hurt herself when she passed out?

There was a flash of lightning as Taffy leaned forward. Out of habit she began counting. One one-hundred, Tw- thunder boomed. Less than a mile? Too close for comfort.

There was a terrible dread taking root in Taffy’s gut. She felt like she was being watched. Her vision was still blurry, but every so often she’d spy a glimpse of glowing, crimson eyes in the distance. Like some predator was circling her, watching her get weaker, waiting to move in for the kill. Taffy leaned back against Lisa’s gravestone. Ironic, in a way, to die in a graveyard next to the bitch who killed her mother and her boyfriend. Maybe Lisa had come back from the grave to claim her, too.

There was no gap between the sound and the light the next time lightning struck. It lit up every nerve in Taffy’s body and blinded her. Everything was a sharp, hot, heavy pain. And then it was gone and she could hear the echo of the thunder over the ringing in her ears.

She blinked. Her thoughts were muddled. Was she just struck by lightning? How was she alive? She tried to straighten herself out, but her nerves were still reverberating with a fire that had already gone out.

And then she heard Michael’s voice coming out of the darkness.

“Taffy, quick. Find something sharp!” Michael ordered. Taffy blinked, her bleary eyes suddenly seeing in 20/20 again. Michael was in front of her, pale and translucent. This was crazy. But now that ‘feeling’ she had earlier was clear: a creature was circling. She could see its crimson eyes all too clearly as it circled like she was its prey. Maybe she was. That thing had probably been why she’d passed out.

Taffy reached into her purse and groped around for something, anything, that she could use to defend herself. Her fingers wrapped around her eyeliner pencil. It’d have to do. Seconds later, a tall, lanky man was leaning over her. His veins were blue and bulging, his eyes red as blood, and two sharp fangs stuck out of his mouth. Taffy shoved the sharp stick at his heart as he tried to bite her neck. Against any other creature, the stick would have, at best, scratched them. But she felt energy flow from somewhere deep inside of her and channeled it into the stick. It lodged itself into the vampire. He recoiled and screamed at the sky, but another crack of thunder erased his cries from the world. Moments later, he disintegrated into nothing but ash and dust, which Taffy choked on. Gross!

“I’m pretty sure vampires aren’t supposed to walk in the sun,” Michael said, extending a hand to help her up. Not thinking, she tried to grab it, surprised when she actually gripped it. Even Michael looked at his hand, surprise evident on his face.

“Soooo… What? He drained my blood?” Taffy asked as she finally got on her feet again. Michael nodded, but refused to let go of her hand. Taffy’s body felt as good as new. It was as if she’d never even been struck by lightning. Whatever this miracle was, she was thankful for it.

“Yes, but… How are you doing that?” Michael asked.

“Um, I don’t know,” Taffy said with a smile. Was it okay to still smile in this situation? Maybe she was just happy to see him again.

“Have you been able to see me this whole time?”

“Have you been here this whole time?”

A few days had passed since Taffy had been struck by lightning. At first, it had seemed like a miracle to have Michael back in her life. But there was a distance between them now, and nothing was like it once had been. Taffy had figured that, maybe, if they had sex, they might get some of that chemistry back. And, frankly, she was horny. The last time she’d fucked anyone, he’d had his dick cut off moments later. So, yeah, she could use a less traumatic experience.

Kissing a ghost was strange. Honestly, Taffy wasn’t that into it. She didn’t think Michael was either, but he looked as if he couldn’t admit it yet. Ghosts were strange to touch. While she could physically interact with him, it felt more like touching mist that had a magnetic resistance.

“This isn’t working,” Taffy said after another minute of trying to make out. Michael looked so fragile as he bowed his head. She was scared she might have broken him with her words.

“Right?” Michael said with a hollow laugh.

“There’s something else, right?” Taffy sat beside him on the bed, resting a hand over his ghostly one.

“I’m like I was when I died,” Michael told her. Taffy didn’t understand at first, but when she did, her eyes went wide. “Yeah. I mean, I still have these desires, but I can’t do anything with them.”

“What if you possessed me?” Taffy asked. It was out of her mouth before she thought the whole thing through. He could feel through her. If ghosts could possess people, she supposed. And wait, did she want to be possessed?

“Taffy, I don’t know about that. I’m not even sure if it would work.”

“It’s worth a try.” Taffy was nervous, not really sure how she felt about being possessed. But it could be fun! And Michael didn’t need to know about her doubts. He’d already been through so much, and if this could help him—help both of them, potentially— then she was at least going to give it a try.

“Okay… Okay, yeah, let’s try.” Michael flashed her a hesitant smile and floated over towards her. He tried touching her, or floating into her, but unlike everything else, he couldn’t pass through her. Just as he was about to give up, Taffy guided his forehead to hers on instinct. And after a moment, she felt him, his existence, his soul, pressing against hers, asking to be let in. But he couldn’t come in without her permission. She let down those barriers and let him in, his ethereal form dissolving into her body.

“Wow, freaky,” Michael said using Taffy’s mouth. Freaky didn’t begin to describe it. She could still feel her body and every movement it made. It just wasn’t her in control of it.

It’s so weird, Taffy thought. She heard Michael chuckle with her voice. You can hear me?

“Yeah.”

Cool. So, are you actually going to, you know, do something?

Michael looked down in their lap, perplexed. Then, as if he’d had a grand idea, he stood up and grabbed the standing mirror. He dragged it in front of her bed. While staring into it, he stripped off her clothes. Taffy felt every movement, large and fast ones so typical of a man compared to how she was used to undressing. He certainly did not possess any feminine grace. But there was something entrancing about watching and feeling herself in the mirror, and yet not being the one performing the actions.

Fully naked, he grabbed at one of her breasts roughly. They flinched. How many times have I told you? They’re sensitive!

“Yeah, apparently.”

This time, he slowly pinched a nipple, then cupped her breast. Both of them felt the shot of arousal at the same time. And it only made him bolder. He sat them down on the bed and laid back against the pillows. He used her hands to explore her body, and fuck if it wasn’t the strangest, most arousing sensation she’d ever experienced.

It wasn’t long before he finally made his way south. His—her—their hand slowly moved down their belly. Another came up to cup at their breast, which he seemed to be way more into than she was. Tentatively, he spread her legs and looked at her pussy in the mirror. Taffy felt a strange urge to swallow, but she wasn’t in charge of her body at the moment.

He started to use her fingers to feel at her entrance. But he hesitated. A frown appeared on her face.

But then they took a deep breath in and he rubbed her clit. Whatever doubt had possessed him faded for the moment, both of them in sync as he bit her lip from the pleasure. He used her fingers to tease it again, then started to finger her. It felt good. So incredibly good. As he looked in the mirror, she had no choice but to see herself in this debauchery.

They were getting close. So close, in fact, that Taffy had almost ejected Michael from her. He was doing a good job, but she knew her body best, and she was desperate for that release. But as if her hands were bound, she could only go along for the ride.

An image of Lisa dressed in Taffy’s high school cheerleader outfit passed through her mind as they neared climax. Michael stopped what he was doing.

You saw nothing. Had he really seen what she pictured?

“At least it wasn’t Mother Teresa,” Michael said.

If Taffy could cringe, she would right now. But as it stood, she had to eagerly await for him to resume. Seconds later, her mind occupied with watching her arousal in the mirror, her fingers played with her clit again. So fucking close! And then it hit, both of them exploding together in unimaginable pleasure.

“Uh, yeah,” Michael moaned with her voice.

Oh, god!

As she came down from the high of the orgasm, she felt Michael expelled from her body. She laid back against the pillows, exhausted and happy. But Michael, despite feeling what she’d just felt, didn’t look the same way. She waved him over to lay next to her. Touching may not have been particularly pleasurable, but the contact was still nice in its own way.

“What’s wrong?” Taffy asked. She ran a hand through his hair once he laid down.

“It felt good. But I’m supposed to have a dick, Taffy. It felt so wrong,” Michael said with a shudder. Taffy tried, but she couldn’t fully understand how he had been grossed out by something that had felt that good. Then again, she’d never needed to jerk herself off with a dick. It might be fun once, but, yeah… Maybe she could understand where he was coming from. “Not that I didn’t like getting you off.”

“You don’t have to explain,” Taffy said, deciding to snuggle him. It was strange, but right now, she felt like she needed it. Sex had been her last, desperate hope to hang onto something that just wasn’t working anymore. She wasn’t someone that would ever function in a sexless relationship. And to be honest, while she’d grieved him, it had been a year, and she’d also moved on. It wasn’t either of their faults; in fact, there were two specific people that were to blame for this distance between them. “I’m sorry.”

Taffy felt her hatred for Lisa spark back to life. She had destroyed so many lives. Lisa had brought death into their family. Lisa was why Taffy had been at the cemetery in the first place. She was the reason Michael was killed and turned into a ghost. She'd opened up a door to supernatural things. Worst of all, Taffy had questions now. How did possession really work? Was Lisa's ghost out there too somewhere? What else didn't Taffy know?

Chapter Text

So, as it turned out, Michael had been haunting her since his death. Which, like, was sort of sweet. And kind of creepy? It wasn’t as if either of them had a choice in the matter, though. The stress of being haunted by a ghost had also proved a great strain on their relationship over the years. Despite it all, though, he had managed to become her best friend.

It had been nearly nine years since Taffy had been struck by lightning. Whatever had happened that night, it had given her the ability to see the supernatural. And that strange power that had driven an eyeliner pencil through a vampire's heart had helped her slay the evil and dangerous creatures she had come across since then. Although she tried to avoid slaying the creatures when she could because she’d already witnessed enough death in her life. That, and they tended to make a mess when they died. But if it was necessary, well, it came down to small time slayers like her ninety-nine percent of the time.

Thanks to these powers, Taffy, with her trusty ghost friend Michael, had managed to establish Unfinished Business Inc., a successful paranormal investigative service. She was also technically licensed as a private investigator, and worked on non-paranormal cases to help pay the bills when business slowed down. More often than not, though, she was chasing alien conspiracies that hobbyists brought her. But on the occasion she got a real paranormal case, it always gave her a thrill.

Aside from the business, she also worked with Michael to try to find what kept him tethered to this world. From all the things she’d learned over the years, ghosts were only formed when there was something incredibly important to them that went unfulfilled. But ten years on and they still had yet to figure out Michael’s unfinished business.

And then, of course, there were her memories of Lisa. She still struggled to deal with the aftermath of everything that had happened after Lisa entered her life. Her thoughts always seemed to waver on the matter. Sometimes she even missed her. If she looked at the situation logically, everything pointed to the Creature with Lisa as the actual murderer. Had she known? Did she help him, or find him victims? These were questions Taffy desperately wanted to be answered. But any answer to be found had been buried with Lisa ten years ago.

Taffy reached over and turned on her iMac. She opened the notes from her latest case. A client had come to her with a daughter that had joined a cult. Of course, because the daughter was ‘willingly’ choosing to stay there, the authorities couldn’t do anything. And that’s where Unfinished Business Inc. came in. In this particular case, the group the daughter had joined was a pack of werewolves as luck would have it.

Taffy had run into a couple packs that were cult-like before, but most of them just looked that way to human outsiders. She’d actually lived among a pack of werewolves for a short time when visiting the United Kingdom. Unlike many supernaturals, generally the worst thing about werewolves was the occasional missing pet, and the smell. Whenever a client brought in a dog from out of the rain, she would have terrible flashbacks.

She was also, perhaps, more sympathetic to werewolves than other supernaturals. For a short time, she’d become a werepanther. It had been a trippy experience. She still hadn’t forgiven Michael for pretending to throw a ball—she’d been in her panther form and had been so ecstatic to grab the ball, only for it not to exist! But licking herself clean in human form wasn’t helping score her any clients, so regrettably, she had to be ‘cured.’ As if humanity was truly the epitome of existence. Sure, these squishy bodies and small life-spans were so superior to other lifeforms.

As for these particular werewolves, all she could find on them was normal stuff. They didn’t appear to be one of the cult-like packs where the Alpha decided every aspect of their life and controlled their every action. There was nothing left to do but investigate in person.

“Where are we going?” Michael asked, hovering just an inch off the ground as he ‘followed’ her. In reality, he was glued to her, and always had to be within ten feet of her. It was like a magnet that pulled him into her orbit, whether either of them liked it or not.

“I have to go see if these wolves are holding my client’s daughter against her will,” Taffy told him, grabbing her detective’s cap off of the rack. Unlike many private detectives, if she wasn’t doing something messy, she preferred to dress nice. She had on a simple black dress with a flare skirt and a brown leather jacket she wore over it. The one thing she couldn’t compromise on for fashion’s sake was her steel-toed boots. Over time, she’d learned the most important thing was to be able to navigate any terrain and to be able to run away quickly. Even if they were ugly as sin.

Once she made it outside, a familiar tengu flew over her head. “Hey, how’s it hanging?” it shouted. It had moved in when an old couple had ‘brought’ some kind of shrine from Japan into the neighborhood.

“Great!” she shouted back. A couple of people on the street turned to look at her, thinking she was talking to air. These supernatural powers had helped her understand Lisa better over the years, to understand how it felt when everyone assumed anything you did was because you were crazy. “It’s a great day to be alive!” Taffy tacked on, then began to sing a song. As if that was going to make her not look crazy.

She hopped in her black Volvo, a boxy car that had proven reliable over the years. She waited until Michael finally took a seat next to her, as well as a floating ghost that moved through solid objects could, before she put the car in drive to head to her destination. Back in her panther days, she could have just run there! If, you know, she didn’t get distracted by a squirrel. Weren’t felines supposed to be smarter than canines or something?

As she drove up towards the pack’s lands, she sighed. Before her was the epitome of not just suburbia, but rich middle class—whose greatest worry was hitting the next tax bracket—suburbia. It was gated, which she always found distasteful. But for the wolves, who loved to run free, it was unthinkable.

Werewolves overwhelmingly loved to run free, no matter how much money they possessed. But the wolves of suburbs like this one were snobs who loved the exclusivity that these walls gave them; packs with neighborhoods like these always had some fancy golf course that was enchanted by a witch to hide a sprawling forest for them to run in. Because like it or not, they were still werewolves, and even if they locked themselves inside these walls, their wolf would always want a place to run free.

Taffy pressed the intercom button at the gate to talk to someone. She had various ways she could bypass the key code, but there was little point in doing so when she could just drive right in. “Mr. Johnson from the golf club has asked me to personally deliver some golf clubs to Mr. Connors.”

There was silence on the other end. Rich people couldn’t pass up golf and golf related activities, right? Well, that was what she was counting on.

“Come on, Taffy. There’s no way he’s going to buy that,” Michael argued from his seat. Taffy leaned over and pinched him. “Ow!” She’d discovered a long time ago that ghosts could feel pain if, you know, you could touch them. Which she could.

The gates slowly started to open up. Static crackled as the voice came through from the other side. “Alright, please proceed. I am sure Mr. Connors will be thrilled.”

Yeah, very thrilled. Taffy drove through the gates slowly, swallowing the lump in her throat when the gates closed behind her. Being stuck in a neighborhood of werewolves that she was investigating was not the safest place to be. At least she had a ghost that could yell at them. Like, they wouldn’t hear him, but still… She’d been a cheerleader. Moral support was important. And it made him feel useful, she figured. Once in a while he was, when he would yell out a warning to her. But most of the time, really, he was just annoying. As it turned out, having your teenage boyfriend stuck to your hip for nine years wore on someone.

Taffy stepped out of the car, then doubled back to grab an empty box in the back. She tried to make it look like it was a delivery box, but it wasn’t golf club shaped, so she wasn’t sure how much it would help. Others might have thought her impulsive, but she did have the power to slay supernatural creatures. They thought she was stuck in here with them, but in reality, they were stuck in here with her! Yeah, let’s go with that, Taffy. Delusions were her best friend, or so she told her clients, who were often accused of being delusional themselves. Yeah, maybe she had been impulsive; maybe she’d wanted to get away from Michael humming “Staying Alive” for the thirtieth time. Ghosts really had nothing better to do than try to annoy mortals, which was why mortals had evolved—at least Taffy guessed—to ignore them.

She rubbed her boot into the corner of the perfectly manicured lawn. That would drive the wolves crazy trying to find which one of them had pissed on the other’s territory by ruining the tiniest corner of their perfectly manicured grass. These gated community types deserved the most banal chaos she could manage to leave them with.

“I’ll go scout it out,” Michael told her, hovering ahead and through the front door. If Mr. Connors was at home, then she could just hightail it out of here. But he should have been at his job according to her research. For all she knew, however, he could have taken a sick day or brought home a mistress. Michael came back out a minute later as Taffy tried to look inconspicuous on the front steps. “Looks like it’s just a woman. She looked like the one in the pictures.”

Taffy moved forward and knocked on the door. Half a minute later, the woman she was looking for answered. “Can I help you?” She was tall and lanky, as she’d been described by her mother. Her hair was still long, stringy, and blonde, and ran down to her waist. But she was far more muscular than her previous picture had suggested, and the once brown eyes were now flecked with gold—an indication of a werewolf, in this case, and not a disease.

“I have a delivery here for Mrs. Connors,” Taffy said, handing the empty box to her on autopilot. Oops. Taffy tugged at her collar. She might have been a little distracted by the woman, who had a certain handsomeness to her. And she didn’t hate a woman with some musculature, either. Was it hot out here, or was it just her?

“Is this a joke?” The woman, Maisey, was offended as she handled the near weightless box, tossing it back in Taffy’s face. “I watch the news. Is that some kind of bomb?” Her face started to morph, hair growing all across her body, and teeth growing decidedly sharper. “Too bad it’s a dud. You made a mistake trying to blow us up.”

“Your mother sent me,” Taffy told her, trying to calm her down. Fear was a good way to stimulate the rational part of her brain when other body parts tried to take control. Maisey stopped for a second, then reversed her transformation. But even though she was back to her human self, Maisey still felt the need to lean forward and sniff Taffy. Yeah, had she mentioned how much she hated dealing with werewolves? Thank god they didn’t act like dogs and try to sniff everyone’s asses.

“I told her, I’m happy here.” Maisey picked a piece of lint off her blouse and avoided eye contact.

“I’m just here to verify that, ma’am.” Taffy pulled out her notepad and pen. “I have to check. Do you want to be here?”

“Yes.”

“Is there anything here that disturbs you?”

“The bitch three doors down wants my husband,” Maisey growled. It could be worse. At least she hadn’t cut off his dick. “Pisses on our lawn every couple weeks.” Alright, well, maybe she’d jumped to an unfair judgment. And it only helped confirm that Taffy had no regrets about avoiding werewolf packs.

“Would you like me to take a message back to your mother? Is there a reason you’re upset with her?”

“Tell her to mind her own business,” Maisey said, looking back and forth as if someone was watching. Taffy tried to deduce what would be causing her paranoia. It seemed she did, in fact, want to be with her husband. Maybe it was possible that she had been turned into a werewolf against her will? “I’m not upset with my mother.” Taffy watched Maisey’s throat as she swallowed nervously. “She’s not part of my life anymore.”

“I see.” Taffy wrote down the information on her notepad. Then she reached into her purse—yes, she had a cute black purse she wore, which all the other detectives made fun of her for—and took out a business card. She extended it to Maisey. “If you ever need to get in contact with me. Or your mother.” Taffy bent her head and tipped her cap to her. “Thanks for your time.”

Maisey didn’t say anything else, but she did accept the card before she closed the door. Taffy stooped down and picked up the empty box.

“Staying alive, staying alive, ah- ah- ah- ah-, staying alive,” Michael sung.

“Shut the fuck up!” Taffy muttered under her breath as they made their way back to the car. Michael switched back into a hum. Taffy growled as she turned the key, feeling the purr of the engine and thankful that it drowned out his humming, if only for a moment.

Taffy was exhausted by the time she made it to her bedroom that night. Maisey had been her type, Michael had been extra annoying, and she was pent-up and horny. So, not caring to waste any time, she tossed her purse and coat on the floor, then quickly removed her dress, knocking her hat off in the process. She didn’t even have the patience to remove her panties, her hand slipping under them and rubbing against herself. She fell back onto her bed and moaned in relief.

“Uh, you know I’m still here?” Michael asked, pointing to himself. Taffy leaned up and looked at him, managed to actually stop her hand long enough to remove her panties, then returned her attention to herself. Having a ghost attached to you and always within ten feet made one less shy around them, especially when you used to fuck them. If he wanted to, he was more than welcome to possess her again.

“Get lost or help me out,” Taffy told him, frustrated and desperate. Would a ghost eating her out feel good or would it just end up feeling like a douche? It didn’t matter, though. He’d chosen to get lost. “Coward!”

Three days had passed since she’d talked to Maisey. Trying to dig up the information of someone living in a gated neighborhood was a difficult endeavor. Fortunately, there was a fairy she knew from a previous case whom she ended up employing for these gigs from time to time. Fairies could get in just about anywhere. On the other hand, they liked riddles and lies and mischief. So, all things considered, they were a last resort. Everything Poppy, the fairy, reported was taken with a grain of salt.

At the moment, Taffy was looking at a torn page Poppy had brought her that had a small section of handwriting: “My sister! ('tis a wish of mine). Now that our morning meal is done, Make haste, your morning task resign; Come forth and feel the sun.” Memories of Lisa flashed through her mind and she found herself a little grumpier than usual. She crumpled up the paper and tossed it in the wastebasket. Another useless thing Poppy had brought. The riddles Poppy had given her she passed off to Michael. At least it gave him something to do, and it tended to stop his humming.

But among all of this seemingly random junk, Poppy had managed to secure some interesting information. Apparently, the Alpha of the pack had tried to pay Maisey’s mother to stop her daughter’s romance with Mr. Connors. And she’d taken the money! But she hadn’t delivered the goods, so to speak.

Maisey and Mr. Connors, presumably, loved each other. She was skeptical, of course, because Mr. Connors was also ten years older than Maisey. But he wasn’t unpleasant on the eyes, he was rich, and maybe being a werewolf would appeal to some young women that had never had the displeasure of dealing with their packs. The Alpha had not only failed to manage his pack, but he felt he had also been betrayed by Maisey’s mother.

Based on her knowledge of pack dynamics, it was logical to assume that Maisey and Mr. Connors were potentially under orders to not contact Masiey’s mother. Possibly, even, to take retribution for their Alpha, which they had presumably refused to do. Even though there was no hard evidence yet, there was some circumstantial evidence. Mr. Connors had been unable to show up to work lately, supposedly because of a ‘fall.’ That sounded a hell of a lot like a crazy alpha that was unhappy he wasn’t as important as his followers made him out to be. Taffy worried it was because she had shown up with a fake delivery and made the Alpha suspicious, but there wasn’t anything she could do. Yet.

“Taffy, come on,” Michael pleaded, exasperated with solving riddles. “We know it’s the Alpha. Let’s just go deal with it.”

“Not yet,” Taffy told him. She didn’t make any moves until she was absolutely sure of what was happening. After seeing everything people had put Lisa through growing up, and still having her doubts about her involvement in the murders, Taffy was cautious when it came to passing this kind of judgment. But she would have to decide soon. In this case, none of the wolves would probably be able to stop their Alpha; he occupied that spot for a reason. Not only were the alphas physically superior to their pack, but the bad ones often cultivated loyalty even when they were abusive; much like any other case where an abused victim would not turn in, or run away from, their abuser. No, it would come down to her and a silver knife if he needed to be stopped.

Two days later, though, there was no other option. Maisey called her, whispering into the phone. Mr. Connors had been beaten within an inch of his life. She begged and pleaded for Taffy to do something to protect them.

Taffy dressed for a fight, like a proper slayer. She went for a classy style; white button shirt with a black waistcoat over it. Black dress pants over her usual boots, which were worn and mud-caked; maybe one day she’d find a fashionable and practical alternative. Her hair was tied up into a ponytail and hidden beneath her detective’s cap. She hid a silver knife in each boot, strapped one to her inner thigh—and yes, she’d cut herself a few times before finally learning better—put another silver knife in the pocket of her waistcoat, and hung a wooden stake off her belt. Fuck vampires.

There was also a flashlight attached to her belt, along with a cell phone that cost her a fortune. Sometimes she missed the pager, but such were the times.

“And you’re sure this can’t wait an hour?” Michael asked. Taffy stared at him. Sometimes the dead had a hard time understanding the priorities of the living. Like stopping this Alpha from hurting any more people.

“They could be dead in an hour.”

“They won’t be,” Michael shot back. He crossed his arms and floated in a circle around her. He was probably right, but probably wasn’t definitely. There was no reason to delay.

“Michael, they could be. And we’re not taking that risk so you can watch Wheel of Fortune.”

Michael let out a heavy sigh. It looked as if he’d finally understood what he had been saying. But she didn’t hold it against him. Ghosts had very few things to look forward to in their unlives. Though for the life of her, she couldn’t understand why watching Wheel of Fortune was so important to him. You’d think JR was getting shot every night.

Once she was dressed and armed for action, she reached for the car keys.

“Uh-uh,” Michael said.

She groaned. “Yeah, mom. I know, I know. Check which pocket first.”

She’d pricked her finger only one time in all these years when she’d forgotten which pocket she’d stored her knife in. Michael was determined to never let her live it down.

Taffy pulled up to the gates again. Michael was still a little grumpy. But even when they had their disagreements about the priorities of the living versus the dead, he always managed to come through and help her wherever she went. Once she closed this case, she decided that she was going to surprise him with a VCR. Then he could record all the shows he wanted and never have to miss them again because duty called.

Taffy pressed the button for the intercom. She tamped down on any emotion in her voice and affected the bored tone of a delivery driver, “Delivery for Mr. Connors.” Why knock down a door when they might open it wide for her? There was silence for a good two minutes, and she sighed. Well, it looked like she was going to have to do this the hard way. But just as she put the car in reverse, static crackled from the receiver. It was still dead air, but she put the car in park again. If this was an attempt to scare her, it wasn’t working. In fact, she was itching to try out throwing a knife at the bastard. She’d become proficient enough to only slightly nick the test dummy attached to the spinning wheel at the local circus.

“Ughrughrugh,” came a feminine moan from the other end. Both Taffy and Michael tensed up at a sound they hadn’t heard for years. If there was any supernatural creature that Taffy utterly hated, it was the undead. Memories of Michael’s death replayed in her mind’s eye. When her breathing became labored, she gripped the steering wheel for dear life and stared at the center of it. She thought she was over these panic attacks.

The moans kept on coming out of the crackling intercom. Taffy had to pull herself together. She’d faced a lot of undead over the years. She’d always found a way to defeat them. None of them had ever been like the one that had killed Michael. They’d looked of course, years ago. But they’d never found anything like that monster.

She focused on her breathing and pulled herself back together. A slipup like this could cost her her life one day. But she had never been able to move past everything that happened with Lisa. And she still visited her gravestone every year when she visited her mother’s, but she’d been too afraid to touch it ever since; as much as it could annoy her, she wouldn’t want to lose her supernatural sight for the world.

“Dammit!” A male voice this time. Taffy arched an eyebrow. “Sweetheart, don’t. We don’t need—” Ah, garbled conversation. Helpful. It was better than the god-awful moaning. “Do you think they’re a normal human? That might work better than with a werewolf.”

Taffy swallowed against the lump in her throat as the gates opened. Werewolves and the undead in the same night. So, yeah, she was probably driving into a death trap. The undead were in the security hut a little ways away from the gate. The whole neighborhood might have been infested.

“I’ll go scout,” Michael offered. But Taffy motioned for him to stop. She opened the door and grabbed the stake from her belt. They were great for killing vampires, sure, but she could imbue them with energy that would destroy the undead. One good stab between the eyes, or where they should be at least, and any zombie would crumble to dust.

Yes, she should have let him scout ahead. But when it came to the undead, she struggled to think or act rationally. He followed her, prepared to warn her of any unexpected interlopers. The door to the security hut was off its hinges. She gently moved it out of the way and stepped inside. Slowly, carefully, she stepped over the mess of things on the floor, making as little noise as possible. It was definitely one of those moments when she wished she was still a werepanther; the grace and flexibility it had given her were invaluable in these situations.

“Urghrghurgh!” the woman from over the speaker moaned as she came around the corner, a crowbar swinging down at Taffy’s head. But Taffy had heard her coming and anticipated the attack by the time Michael cried, “Look out!” Taffy thrust her stake up towards the zombie’s face, right between the eyes. But then she made eye contact with the zombie, and her breath caught in her chest.

Neither the crowbar nor stake made contact. They held their weapons in the air, almost touching. Taffy couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing. Neither could the monster, it seemed.

Her eyes were shadowed and sunken, and her hair was darker than Taffy remembered. Her skin was grayish. But Taffy knew those shoulders, and that neck, because she’d spent forever trying to buy gifts and share clothes and find any way she could to make Lisa happy.

“L-L-Lisa?” Taffy stuttered. She was just like the Creature that killed Michael. Undead, yes, but not a zombie. What was going on? Was it a nasty fairy trick? Taffy had pissed off a few she’d busted for affairs before—that faeries were strictly monogamous was possibly the biggest surprise for her in the supernatural world. She took a few steps backwards before she even knew what she was doing.

“Oh, shit.” The Creature that had killed Michael ten years ago came around the corner and tried to pull Lisa back. She resisted. And apparently, he could talk now. Taffy didn’t appreciate that.

“You’ve got half a minute and then I slay you guys,” Taffy growled. She stood taller, stake ready and charged with her energy. Everything she thought she knew was collapsing around her. Lisa had just tried to murder her, like she must have helped to murder Taffy’s mother and Michael. She wouldn’t be satisfied until she took everything from Taffy, would she? She felt like a fool to have believed in Lisa, to think maybe she had been a victim of the Creature. She'd been behind every death.

“Lisa can’t talk right now,” the Creature said. His voice was softer and higher than she’d expected. Honestly, she’d always pictured him having some dark, grizzly voice instead. When Taffy didn’t look impressed, he added, “She doesn’t have a tongue.”

“You two murdered my mother and my boyfriend!” Taffy shouted. She was livid. Every fucking thing she’d denied for years was being revealed for what it was. Her step-sister really was a psychotic fucking murderer. Hell, maybe she’d killed her own mother. Taffy immediately felt bad for thinking that, and she really didn’t know what that said about her own mental state.

“We can discuss that. Just as soon as we get Lisa a tongue, okay?”

“How is that—” Taffy stopped what she was saying. Lisa couldn’t look her in the eye and was holding her shoulder with her free hand. Was that why they’d murdered everyone? To take their body parts and use them? “If you think you can kill me—”

“We don’t need to. Lisa wouldn’t want to.” Who the fuck was this guy to speak for Lisa? “The Alpha of this pack. We were about to take his tongue when you showed up.”

“You killed him?” Taffy was offended by their brazenness. Although, okay, so she was also here to kill him. But it was totally justified in her case.

“He wasn’t a good man. He worked here, ironically, even though he was the Alpha. And he took out his dissatisfaction on his pack.”

Michael was cowering by her side. Taffy felt bad for him. It couldn’t have been easy to see these two after all these years, especially when he thought justice had been served ten years ago. “You two will do anything to justify your murders. You disgust me.” Taffy took in a deep breath and tried to ignore the hurt in Lisa’s eyes as she opened her mouth to say something, only to close it as she realized she couldn’t talk. Taffy turned around and walked out of the security hut. As she left through the broken door, she hollered back to them, “I better not see you again. I won’t let you go next time.”

Truth be told, she knew she had to end it. She couldn’t let them go. But if they thought she was being merciful for old times' sake, they might let their guard down. She had to harden her heart enough to go through with it. Even though Lisa hadn’t wanted to hurt Taffy. And Taffy hadn’t wanted to hurt Lisa. Taffy still didn't want to hurt Lisa, even though she knew what had to be done. “It’ll be okay,” she reassured Michael, resting a hand over his. He didn't reply to her, but whatever fear or panic that had possessed him had passed. He had entered a deep, contemplative mood. Well, everyone responded to trauma differently.

Taffy drove just far enough away to make sure the car was out of sight. She grabbed some binoculars from the trunk and watched for the Creature and Lisa to come out of the hut. A few minutes later, they did just that, heading off as fast as they could. She followed on foot. Michael simply drifted along with her in silence.

They never even checked behind them. Why wouldn’t Lisa at least check to make sure Taffy wasn’t going to double back and kill them? Taffy moved closer. She was nearly at the point that she could guarantee at least one of them would die; both, if her skills at fighting proved better than theirs. They always did.

But Taffy’s feet wouldn’t budge. The two who had torn apart her life, condemned Michael to his ghostly fate, and cost her a family continued to get further away. She couldn’t do it. She just couldn’t do it.

Taffy made her way back towards the car, even if all common sense said she should have slayed those body-part snatchers. Maybe it was just closure she wanted. Or maybe, she couldn’t bring herself to hate Lisa like she was supposed to. But ultimately it didn’t matter. The fact was that she didn’t have it in her to kill her.

Lisa and the Creature showed up to Taffy’s office just after noon the next day. “I thought I made it clear what would happen if I saw you again,” Taffy said with a firm tone as they walked through the door. The Creature hung back near the door while Lisa hesitated in front of her desk, a cloth-bound book in her hands. Taffy should have been preparing to fight them. But curiosity won out as Lisa placed the book on her desk before she took a seat across from Taffy.

Taffy picked up the book. Had Lisa made this herself? When she opened it, she was greeted with a poem: “To My Sister” by Wordsworth. Taffy didn’t let herself cry. And dammit if it was nearly impossible to hold back the tears. She closed the book, but kept it near her on the desk.

“So…” Taffy leaned back in her chair, waiting for any sort of excuse or explanation. Michael sat beside her on the desk, his ghostly pale knee bouncing up and down. He was rarely this anxious. “Why are you here? Ten years and a few murders too late.”

“I missed you,” Lisa said. Her voice was weak, and she looked more vulnerable than Taffy ever remembered. But Taffy had to harden her heart. When it was clear that she wasn’t affected by her confession, Lisa continued. “I’m sorry about Michael.” She rubbed her hands against the arm rests on the chair. “I didn’t…”

The Creature moved over towards them and put a hand on the back of Lisa’s chair. “That was all me,” the Creature volunteered. Man, she was going to have to learn his name at some point, right? “I was jealous.”

“And in requirement of my boyfriend’s dick, I’m guessing,” Taffy growled, eyes flicking down to his crotch. Michael was suddenly attentive, moving forward on the desk to sit closer to the two guests. Grief started to bleed into her voice. “You can’t just murder people whenever you want!”

“I’m sorry—” the Creature tried.

“No, whoever the fuck you are!” Taffy interrupted. “You can’t just apologize for murder. And what about my mom, you assholes?”

“Taffy, I can’t… There’s nothing I can…” Lisa mumbled. It was hard to make it out.

“Don’t apologize,” the Creature said, moving his hand to rest on Lisa’s shoulder. Taffy started to shake, anger and grief pulsing in her ears. The Creature looked her right in the eyes. “My name is Frank. I’m the one who killed your mother. She was about to have Lisa locked away in a mental institution.”

“Yeah, well, it’s a place where psychotic murderers belong,” Taffy rebutted. Lisa looked so small again. She remembered all the times she’d looked that way when they were teens. Taffy had tried to pull her out of that, but it was like Lisa was allergic to her help. And, well, the more she thought back on it, the more she remembered that Lisa was always at her smallest when Taffy’s mother was around. But there was no way she would have locked her up for nothing. Maybe she had known that Lisa was a murderer.

“I cared about you,” Lisa added. She stood up, Frank standing beside her protectively. “I didn’t want to hurt you. And I’m sorry I did. But if it wasn’t for Frank, I’d be in a mental institution or dead. Uh, deader.”

They started to head for the door. Apparently they were too cowardly to stick around. Although, what could they ever say to make up for what they’d done to Taffy and those around her? Taffy felt at the pistol she had under the desk in preparation for unexpected meetings. It was loaded with silver bullets. If it didn’t kill them, the stake sure as hell would. But in the end, she still couldn’t do it. The book sitting on her desk had sapped any leftover desire she had for revenge against Lisa. And she didn’t want any more killing. There’d been enough.

“Wait!” Michael shouted, grabbing Taffy’s arm like a little boy asking his mom for candy. “Stop them. I think they can help. I think I know why I’m here!”

“Stop!” Taffy cried out as she stood up. They stopped in the doorway. Taffy looked over towards Michael and mouthed at him, “What?”

“Frank, maybe you should wait outside—” Lisa tried.

“No!” Michael shouted.

“No!” Taffy was forced to shout for him.

“My question is for him.”

“I have a question for him,” Taffy said, parroting Michael’s words as best as she could. Why did it hurt Taffy to see the pain in Lisa’s eyes at her rejection of her?

“Are you—” Michael began.

“Are you—” Taffy copied. Lisa and Frank were paying rapt attention.

Taffy continued to copy Michael. If this could help him pass on, she wasn’t going to interfere. “Are you, you know, using it well?” What?

Lisa and Frank looked at Taffy with an odd expression. God, Michael was making her look like an idiot.

“My dick, does it, you know, work for you?” Taffy asked for Michael, slapping a hand across her mouth a second later. That motherfucker! Lisa and Frank stared at her, taken aback. God, there were too many ways they could interrupt that question. But Frank smiled and gave her two thumbs up. So… Yeah, that answered nothing.

A great wind started to blow through the office. Taffy turned around to see a halo of light surrounding Michael. Tears instantly began to form and fall in big, fat drops against her desk. He was passing on! He wore a grin and was returning the thumbs up. “Bye,” he said. And then he was gone in a flash of light, the wind dying down only after it managed to scatter every document around the office that was on her desk. What the hell was she supposed to do now?!

What the… hell… Michael was gone, after all these years. She suffered him for nine fucking years, just for him to piss off over the stupidest question of all time! Grief and disbelief caused her to start sobbing.

Taffy wanted to fall to her knees. Instead, she fell into Lisa, who managed to catch her and hold her upright. She was desperate for any sort of contact and quickly hugged Lisa, sobbing into her shoulder. Her whole life had become a nightmarish mess. Everyone she loved, everyone she cared about, abandoned her in the end. Lisa hesitated to return the hug for a moment, but soon her hand was rubbing up and down Taffy’s back.

Crying on a walking corpse was, unfortunately, not the strangest thing Taffy had ever done. Crying on this particular one, though, was perhaps one of her greatest sins. Lisa was behind everything that had ruined Taffy’s life. She’d helped to take her mother away. Not to mention her boyfriend, twice. Michael hadn’t been her boyfriend in a long time, but he was her best friend, one of her only good friends, and an essential member of her detective agency. Now she’d have to go find a new ghost to haunt her or put up with fairies that never stopped their mischief; and with fairies, she’d have to actually pay them!

“I’m, uh, not sure what’s going on,” Lisa said as Taffy continued to sob. She had been the final one to abandon Taffy. When she’d thought she’d finally found a family, her step-sister had torn them all apart and disappeared into the ground. Or, as it turned out, into undeath.

“You just cost me my partner,” Taffy sobbed.

“Um. Who?”

Okay, well, they couldn’t actually see the ghost. But shouldn’t they have put it together?

“Uh, I think she means that guy,” Frank added. Taffy growled. He couldn’t even remember the name of his victims? He seemed to get the message. “So, uh, yeah. I’m going to go check on the weather. Outside.”

Lisa helped Taffy clean up the documents scattered about the room while Taffy tried to pull herself together. They worked in silence, but it felt like there was something being communicated between them by this simple labor. Taffy picked up the book Lisa had given her off the floor and dusted it off. Dammit, this was all so fucked up! “Let’s talk.”

Taffy took a seat behind her desk while Lisa took the seat across from her. Taffy’s hand rested on the book Lisa had given her. She let out a sigh and retracted her hand, letting it rest in her lap. Lisa looked like she had something to say. “Well?”

“Michael’s been haunting you this whole time?” Lisa looked shocked. Guilt crinkled at her eyes.

“Turns out death by axe murderer is rather traumatic.”

“Taffy, I didn’t… Michael wasn’t supposed to die.” Lisa reached out to touch her, but Taffy recoiled from her. “Frank was just—”

“No, Lisa!” Taffy sobbed. “Are you going to tell me he was protecting you by killing Michael? No, you don’t get to excuse anything Frank did.”

Lisa’s fingers played with the loose fabric of her dress. “I liked Michael…” Lisa said in a small, barely audible voice. Then, a little louder. “You knew I liked him.”

“I did. Why do you think we kept it hidden?”

“So you were seeing him to hurt me.” It was less a statement and more a confirmation. Had Lisa really thought Taffy would do something like that?

“I insisted on keeping it hidden because I didn’t want to hurt you!” Taffy threw her arms up in the air. Lisa’s eyes went wide. But doubt still seemed to cloud them. “Why do you think I would have wanted to hurt you? Because you murdered my mom? That would have been a good reason, if I’d known…”

“You always acted nice, Taffy,” Lisa began. She sat up straighter and her sunken eyes lit up. Oh, this was not the shy Lisa she’d dealt with as a teen. “But you loved when your mom would put me down and raise you up.”

Taffy thought back to her memories of her mother. Being in her late twenties now, she was better able to reexamine her memories of how her mother had treated Lisa. As a teen, Taffy had thought her mom acted that way because she cared. Now, she could see how sometimes her mom had taken it too far to the point her concern had become cruel and derogatory. “I didn’t love that, Lisa. I never wanted to be better than you.”

“Sure,” Lisa snorted.

“Just because mom could be a little intense doesn’t justify killing her!” Taffy bit back.

“We’ve already been over this, Taffy. She was going to lock me away. For nothing!” When it came to her mother, Lisa wasn’t that passive, awkward teenager she used to be. How bad had things been between them? “And you want to know the messed up thing? I was going to let her do it!”

That was the moment the reality of the situation Lisa had lived through really sunk in for Taffy. God, that Lisa from back then would have let herself be carted off, wouldn’t she? “Come here.” Taffy stood up and opened her arms. Lisa had never been that physically affectionate, but if they were doing this not killing each other thing, then she was going to have to get used to it.

When Lisa hesitated, Taffy waved her arms in invitation. “I don’t want to keep hating you, Lisa. Come here.”

Lisa made her way over and hugged her. It was awkward at first, but it felt like a step in the right direction. “I’m sorry your mom died.”

“No, you’re not,” Taffy said. To be honest, if Michael hadn’t just moved on an hour ago, and she hadn’t discovered that her dead sister was alive yesterday, then she might have found this reunion a lot more straining. But as it was, she was drained emotionally, and having lost her best friend of nine years, the part of her that had always wanted Lisa in her life refused to dredge up the worst emotions in her at the moment.

“No, Taffy. I am sorry,” Lisa told her as they let go of each other. When she had a hard time continuing, Taffy rubbed a hand up and down Lisa’s upper arm. “Yes, I hate your mom. But if it wasn’t for me, you’d still have yours. And I am sorry for that.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” Taffy told her, trying to get her to hold eye contact. Lisa always made that difficult, her eyes managing to flick to and fro to avoid her gaze like an expert introvert. “Don’t apologize for coming into my life. Please, I can’t handle that. Not after everything.”

Taffy was still struggling with accepting all she’d learned about Lisa. But honestly, what she held against her most was falling in love with Frank. Because Frank was the one responsible for those deaths. But it was clear the two had become a package deal, and so long as she wasn’t expected to forgive Frank, she would at least try to find a way to tolerate his existence for Lisa’s sake.

But for what reason had her mother been so cruel? Probably for the same reason everyone else gave, that anyone that had gone through what Lisa had would turn out to be a psycho. Taffy was no stranger to that nowadays when people discovered her history as a teenager. But she was more or less stable. As long as you didn’t count two years ago when she ended up dating a vampire, then accidentally staked him during foreplay. But one can’t kill what’s already dead, right? That’s basically double jeopardy.

“Where’d you go?” Lisa asked, voice hoarse. Huh, so that could happen to the undead too. Taffy was pulled back into the moment.

“I was just… thinking.” Which was technically true. The last hour had thrown Taffy’s mind into chaos, however, and having to now process the problems her mother potentially had was not helping. And then something occurred to her. “How did you find us—me—here?” She had to remind herself that there was no ‘us’ anymore.

Lisa grabbed her own wrist and briefly turned at an angle, once again avoiding eye contact. “I kept tabs on you from time to time.”

Lisa’s confession warmed Taffy’s heart a little. “Aww. That’s creepy. Sweet of you, but also creepy.” But, hey, creepy was part of her job description.

“Taffy, you don’t have to pretend to be okay.”

Taffy rested a hand on the book Lisa had brought for her. “I’m so not okay,” she told her. “But I’ve missed my sister. And that trumps everything else.”

Lisa looked a little teary-eyed as she wiped at her eyes with her sleeve. “I’ve missed you so much, Taffy.” Lisa choked up a bit. “My…” Her voice fell to a whisper. “Sister.”

After spending hours talking with Lisa, Taffy had parted with her, unsure of what she should do. So she laid back on her bed and stared at the ceiling. Lisa and Frank had killed off the Alpha, which ironically finished her case for Maisey’s mother. The Alpha had been the one threatening them over having any contact with the outside world; with him out of the way, Maisey was now free to contact her mother. Or not.

More tears surfaced as she realized it was the final case she’d finished with Michael. Fuck. He had already been annoying enough alive-ish, but now he kept haunting her memories. She really didn’t want to find another ghost to haunt her. Too many of them were secretly perverts, too, and she definitely did not want to deal with that.

It took her until two a.m. to fall asleep, but her dreams were uneasy and she woke up in a sweat only a couple of hours later. Her mother had been standing over her bed, directing some nurses dressed in white from head to toe—faces fully covered by strange white veils that flowed as if they were underwater—to carry her off to the loony bin. All because she hadn’t killed Lisa; hadn’t sought revenge.

It was four a.m. when Taffy climbed out of bed, picked up the phone, and dialed the number Lisa had left her. She wasn’t sure if the undead slept, and right now, she didn’t care. Lisa owed her at least this. “We’re going to buy a VCR. Right now.”

“Um, okay?” Lisa sounded confused. Taffy couldn’t hold back a sob, which probably helped to make her look like a crazy bitch. “Is there actually any place open at four a.m.?”

Ultimately, Taffy ended up dressed in only pajamas—she’d come to regret this decision once she was well-rested—in a Walmart Super Center with Lisa. Shopping for VCRs. And Taffy had absolutely no clue what the fuck she was supposed to do with one. But she was going to record and never watch every episode of Wheel of Fortune in Michael’s honor.

“I guess you don’t watch many movies,” Lisa commented as they walked along the aisles. There were tons of VCRs, but were there actually any differences? Michael’s voice played through her head from years ago when she had almost bought one, explaining that Betamax was the future and it’d be a waste of money to invest in VHS. Taffy leaned into Lisa for a hug. Lisa was slowly getting more accustomed to it, which helped ease some of the pain Taffy felt as she cried for the umpteenth time.

“I do in the theater, when I have the time,” Taffy finally got out as Lisa rubbed her back. It was nice to feel actual, human touch after so many years of that misty, invisible force of a feeling that a ghost had. Taffy pulled herself together and moved away from Lisa, thankful that there weren’t many people in a store at four thirty in the morning to witness whatever grief-based meltdown she was having. Tired of trying to figure out which one to get, she picked up the VCR that would look best in her place and was reasonably affordable. “Do you watch any TV shows?”

“I like Friends.”

“Oh my god!” Taffy nudged her with her arm. Never in a million years would she have guessed Lisa would like the same show as her. It didn’t feel like a Lisa show. “Me too.”

“And I think I’ve developed Stockholm Syndrome with Wheel of Fortune.” Lisa went quiet. Taffy sighed, but motioned with her hand to continue. “It’s the only show Frank actually likes.”

Fucking Frank. It was going to be hard to tolerate him, but maybe she could one day. He had helped Michael pass on after all, but he was also the reason that needed to happen, so… Nope, fuck Frank. Taffy wasn’t going to forgive that any time soon. “Michael too,” she said with a tear in her eye.

“No way,” Lisa said with a laugh. Oh, that sounded good on her. Taffy hoped she could get her to laugh more in the future.

“And god forbid they miss their Wheel of Fortune,” both of them said together in unison. They burst out laughing. There was still asshole Frank. And a hole in her life that Michael had occupied. But Lisa was back in her life, and in the end, despite all that had happened, she had missed having a sister. And in honor of all those that had suffered to get her to this place, she was going to enjoy every minute she had left with her family.