They say when you die, you hear angels sing. You see a bright light and walk happily into the unknown.

They lie.

I see and hear nothing. I feel nothing. The man I love killed me. Murdered me. Denying me a chance to live the life I wanted. I’ll never forgive him. But there is no forgiveness in death.

My mind’s hazy from the nothingness before me. This is death. The afterlife. The fifth phase of the moon, and the journey is just beginning. My exaltation—my Heaven or Hell. Let my spiritual evolution begin.

You know what?

It all kind of sucks.

There’s an unfamiliar smell, and my body jostles slightly as if I’m being carried away. And I’m cold.

Is this hell?

Has Xavier cast me into the depths of hell by setting me free in his demented, wicked way?

The smell becomes more pungent, and I blink back the tears forming.

“Take it slow,” a familiar voice says.

“Where am I?” I don’t recognize my scratchy voice.

“Halfway across the country now. You were out for a while.”

I open my eyes, and the blackness turns to soft colors of tan and grey. Clouds drift by. Heaven is very bland. “Where is the pearly gate?”

I blink, and Dean comes into focus with a small smile. “This isn't heaven. It’s Xavier’s private jet. Do you want some water?”

I nod, confusion streaming through me as Dean stands and heads to the back of the cabin. “What happened?” I whisper mainly to myself.

“He was right about the fainting when you see blood.” He laughs, walking back toward me and holding out a small glass. “It wasn’t even real blood, and you were out.” He snaps his fingers together.

I sip the cool water, letting it trickle down my dry throat. “Xavier shot me,” I whisper again.

The image of the gun in his hand, him pulling the trigger and ending my life, brings back tears.

I glance down, wiping at my blood-stained dress. “I’m not dead?”

“Hardly. That was some show, huh?”

“Show?” Is this my purgatory? To be stuck with Dean while he speaks in riddles?

“Yeah, I kept telling him it wouldn’t work.” He runs a hand through his hair, a smile illuminating his face. “But, Xavier was confident you’d faint when you saw the blood.”

“I don’t understand.”

He turns and rifles through a cabinet beneath a flat screen tv. “He’s been planning this all for so long, and what a chance he took with you.”

“How so?”

“The gun was a prop gun, but it sure did the trick. Your dad bought it—hook, line, and sinker.”

I sit up. “My dad thinks I’m dead?”

“Dead as a doornail, kid.”

I take another sip of water. “Why did he do this to me?”

Dean glances at me. “Were you happy? Did you really want to marry Ian?”

“Well…”

He cuts me off, “Because I hear they perform weddings in prison. You can visit him, and conjugal visits might work out.”

The thought of visiting Ian in prison makes me smile for a second, but I would never. “Well...no, but...”

“Your father is a really bad guy. The Feds have been after him for years. So, Xavier cut them a deal in exchange for your freedom from all of that.”

“Freedom how?”

“You’ll see.” He pulls clothes from the cabinet and tosses them on the chair beside me. “You can change out of that dress.”

He turns on the tv, and I get bits and pieces of what happened on the news. My father, in handcuffs, is ushered away from the church by the man Xavier met at the opera. A federal agent. My mind spins from the intricate planning used to take my father down.

“Alfred DeLaurio, alleged mob boss, taken into custody by federal agents.” scrolls across the bottom.

I grab the remote and shut it off. My brain is on information overload, but there's one important piece I still need. “What about Xavier?” I ask, grabbing the change of clothes.

“What about him?”

“Will he be coming to see me?” I ask afraid of the answer.

Dean blows out a breath. “Rhiannon, he has to lay low until the trial. Maybe even out of the country.”

“Oh.”

“Do you understand what’s going on?” He sits down beside me. “You’re dead. You will have a new name, new identity, everything from your old life is over.”

I think back on everything I’ve left behind. My mother. My friends. And then I think about whether the price for my freedom is really what I want?

As if Dean can read my mind, he says, “Look, if you don’t want this, we can always take you back.”

What I really want isn’t sitting here on the plane with me.

“Xavier felt this was the only way. He didn’t want your father to use you from jail, or worse. Who knows if your father will even face prison time.”

“Why didn’t Xavier ask me? Or at least tell me?”

“He couldn’t risk it. He needed it to look real.”

Well, he deserves an Academy Award for the acting job he did in the church. Was it all an act? Everything leading up to it? I know he cares. I know there’s even love there. But not the kind like me. I’m in love with him.

Now, he’ll be busy with being a witness in my father’s trial, and after, who knows. And I’ll do…

“Dean?” I ask. “What will I do?”

“Same thing you always have. You can start your card business, and don’t worry, Xavier has you all set up in a cottage by the ocean in North Carolina.”

“I guess I can start from scratch.” I smile a little. The possibilities are endless, even though finding another backer to fund my cards might pose a challenge. I head back to the rear of the plane, clothes in hand.

“Rhiannon, or should I say Brianna?” He smiles, when I look back at him. “That’s your new name, Brianna Stoneworthy.”

“Oh, ha ha on the name. Are you serious?”

He holds up his hands, placating me. “Hey, I didn’t pick it.” Then he turns serious. “You do know Xavier was the one who backed your business, right?”

“Inscription Prescription Rx,” I whisper.

Tears threaten to spill once more, and I escape to the privacy of the bathroom. Breathe.