“Happy Birthday to you,” Zach said in a sing song voice.
Grace’s eyes were covered with his hand as he led her somewhere. She knew it was the hospital. She worked there so she ought to know its smell.
She just didn’t know what this had to do with her birthday.
“Ta da,” he said when they stopped.
He removed his hand from her face.
“Gee, I’ve always thought the morgue was romantic. How’d you know?”
“Ha, ha,” he said. “There is a method to my madness.”
He looked at his watch. “It’s now eight at night. You’re exactly thirty years old.”
“Okay. I’ll bite.”
“Come on, Grace. Don’t you want to know if you still have the power?”
“Oh, Zach.”
She hugged him. She’d been thinking about nothing else all day. She hadn’t wanted to bother him. She was wrong. He already knew what she was thinking.
“What if I didn’t lose the power and I rewind? Back before you and I. I’m not sure I could do that again.”
He put a finger to her lips. “I’ll risk it.”
“Why?”
“I want you to have peace of mind. I don’t want you to wonder. Besides, I think I’d fall in love with you no matter what,” he said.
The idea warmed her, but her heart fluttered in her chest. “Is there a murder victim?”
“Brought in this morning.”
“You can’t come with me.”
“I know Grace. I wish I could, but I know I can’t.”
She took a deep breath. Her rational side warred with her heart. She didn’t want to lose Zach. She didn’t want to start from scratch. She liked too much that he loved her.
And that she loved him.
“I could just stay away from dead people,” she said.
He shook his head. “You want to know almost as much as I want to know.”
He was right.
She took another deep breath and plunged into the cold storage room of the morgue. He’d whispered to her what drawer the victim was in.
With her hand shaking, she pulled it open.
A corpse lay inert on the cold slab. She gulped in air
Reaching out she touched the victim’s hand. No response. She waited. The corpse didn’t move, didn’t ask for her help, didn’t come alive.
Nothing.
Sweet nothing.