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Char had always been a dreamer and sort of a mystic. Ours were typical stories: Abusive families, rebellious teens, running away together and turning to prostitution to stay alive.
We made a pact that day. We vowed to take care of each other from that day to the grave. She gripped my shoulder saying, “Beyond the grave!” She vowed that if she died first, she’d find some way to let me know she’s still with me.
Immediately after the fact, an unmarked package arrived. When opened, the contents wafted thru my fingers like fog, whispering my name… and I just knew.