Page 158 of Grim
WelcometotheLostSoulsDivision
Istare down at the device in my hand. Kane stands beside me, angled slightly to read over my shoulder. His chin just grazes my temple as he tilts to get a better view of the back of my Tombstone Phone.
“Rue Chamberlain. Loving daughter. Cat mom. Writer. Always Home.”
He looks at me, brows slightly drawn together as he repeats in question, “Always Home?”
I nod. “It’s from a sonnet I wrote to my dad. My mom must have found my notebooks and actually read them.”
There’s a beat of silence.
“Wonders never cease,” Kane mutters dryly.
I nudge his elbow. “Sometimes, people can surprise us.”
The soul outlives the body, and stories outlast our days on Earth. If even for a short time, that’s not nothing. I don’t say it aloud, but a silent thank-you floats somewhere out there in the direction of my mom.
“Hey,” I say, remembering something I asked Kane ages ago that he never answered. “Your Tombstone Phone. You never told me what it says.”
He pulls his device from his breast pocket and hands it to me to see.
“The real version is in a small cemetery in the ninth arrondissement. It saysl’amour guérit.”
When I give him a blank stare, he translates, “Love heals.”
I think about Kane’s story, the parts he has shared and those he has been more reluctant to reveal. I bring my hand to his neck and gently touch the raised flesh above his vein.
He rests his hand outside mine as I ask him, “Does it?”
“When administered in the proper dosage, yes. Yes, it does.”
He guides our hands to his cheek and pulls us together for a kiss, which is cut annoyingly short by the repeated notification from my Tombstone Phone. The same gong from my old family clock chimes on the device.
Looking at the screen, I scan over the alert. My face lights up when I read the message.
“Here it is,” I say, failing to contain the excitement in my voice. “Our first case!”
I click the button and read the details aloud to Kane. “‘Katherine Sinclair. Initial Crossover: Failed. Current Status: Tied to Titan Media building.’”
The words hang for a moment. I look up and see a stricken expression on Kane’s face.
My smile slips.
“Nothing,” he says in response to the unvoiced question in my glare.
“Kane.”
“Rue—”
I step in front of him and narrow my eyes. “Your beautiful mouth says, ‘Nothing,’ but those eyes are screaming a story, Grim.”
He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, as if I’m giving him a migraine. “She was my final reap. Before you. She insisted that the business could not survive without her. Tied to her career. Could not let go.”
“Until now,” I say with a smile in my voice. “Nothing like our first shot at a second chance. I’m not naive enough to think this will be easy, but let’s try to set things to rights, yeah?”
“Your enthusiasm is infectious,” Kane says flatly.
I beam. “Yeah? You’re feeling the energy?”
