“What do I need to do in order to win?”

It was the most important question, one I ought to have asked before taking the gamble, but I was so concerned about securing my ticket out of here that it completely slipped my mind.

“I believe in fair trade,” the man responded. “A life for a life.”

“Please expound. I want to make sure that I get this right.”

“Before that, take a step back and come closer to me,” he said. “It’s not like you’re going to jump off anytime soon anyway.”

It was then that I noticed the weight had been lifted off me. But it wasn’t gone; I could still feel it hovering over my head, ready to latch onto me again at the slightest sign of hesitation.

I squared my shoulders and lifted my chin as I walked to the man, stopping only when I was two feet away. I could see him clearer now, but his features were… bizarre. I wasn’t even sure that he was a man anymore. From the top of his head down to the soles of his feet, the details surrounding his physical appearance were obscured. He could be anything.

No, he was anything.

“Yes and no.”

I sighed. “Can you please stop reading my mind? I didn’t make a fuss out of it earlier because my hands were full, but it’s getting really uncomfortable now.”

“I can’t help it,” he said, shrugging. “Like it or not, I am connected to you. And the only reason you can’t see me clearly is because you refuse to see me for what I really am.”

“But how could you be… anything?”

“Every person sees me differently, and I take form depending on what they accept me as.”

“So if I start seeing you in a certain form…” I shook my head, trying to rid myself of this unnecessary curiosity. I had to focus. “You were saying something about fair trade?”

“A life for a life,” he affirmed.

A ridiculous idea popped into my head. I looked at him with wide, incredulous eyes. “Are you asking me to kill somebody so I could drag him here?”

He didn’t see that one coming. I said it before I was able to fully process it in my head, so he heard it firsthand from my mouth. He burst out laughing. “Goodness, no. We don’t do that kind of trading here. What I meant is that, since you wanted to be saved and get another chance at life, you need to do the same thing for someone else—someone in the world of the living.”

“But that means he’s alive, right? What chance at life could he possibly need?”

“Angela, just because someone breathes doesn’t mean he lives.”

His words hit me more heavily than I expected, even though I knew he was talking about the other person and not me. I couldn’t understand why it affected me, though. It wasn’t like I identified with it.

“My name is Sam,” I corrected, choosing not to respond to the rest of his statement.

“Whatever.” He waved a hand dismissively. “I don’t concern myself with fake names.”

“It’s not fake,” I argued. “I legally changed my name. You should know that.”

His eyes sparkled with a strange light. “Oh, yes, I do know everything about you.”

“Right, I’m not interested in a history lesson,” I quipped, rolling my eyes. “Just tell me all I need to know so I can start fixing that person.”

He chuckled. “You talk as if he’s a company project,” he said, shaking his head. “But kidding aside, I think it’ll be best if I introduce you to him first. Then I’ll give you the information you need to get started.” He grabbed the doorknob beside him and twisted it. “Follow me.”

I didn’t need to be told twice.

The other side of the door was completely normal and familiar. The ceiling was high, the pillars were thick and white, and the lightly colored marble floor made the whole place glow quite elegantly. A long wooden counter occupied the front of the room, and behind it was a handful of people sitting on swivel chairs, either typing away on their computers or conversing with clients.

There were several flat screen TVs that flashed the numbers of clients that were currently being assisted. It seemed the flow was slow; some guests had eyebrows drawn together, their feet tapping impatiently on the floor.

My eyes shifted to the dark blue letters on the wall behind the tellers.

VERTEX BANCSHARES

I had been in and out of this place before, though it was at a different branch, the one nearest my hometown. I wondered if they had already heard about my… untimely demise, and what they could be possibly thinking of doing with my money. Well, they’d better keep it safe until I got my living body back.

Having done enough looking around, I took a deep breath and mustered the courage to finally face the things that were not normal upon my arrival. The first thing that I noticed was how none of the people around me showed any signs that they could see me. They went about their business, not the least bit concerned about the woman who just appeared in the middle of the room out of thin air.

I approached a middle-aged man who was busy filling out a form and loudly cleared my throat, to which he didn’t react, giving me the impression that he didn’t hear me. I then waved my hand in front of his face, but he just stared through it and continued writing down the details on his deposit slip.

I retracted my hand and grimaced. “I don’t like this.”

“You wanted to be invisible when you were a kid.”

I jumped in surprise, my eyes scanning the whole room for the shadow, but he was nowhere to be found. “Where are you?” I demanded. “And don’t you tell me this is what I wanted. When I said I wanted to be invisible, I didn’t mean it like this.”

“Tsk tsk,” he said, his mocking voice resounding in my head. “There’s just no pleasing you, eh?”

“Show yourself, why don’t you?” I said acidly. “I feel silly talking to a voice in my head, as if being a ghost doesn’t make me weird enough.”

“I can’t even if I want to. You don’t allow me to take form.”

“That’s stupid.”

“No, what’s stupid is you trying to change what’s already happened,” he retorted. “But I’m not going to argue with you about that again. We’re done with that.”

I sighed impatiently. “I thought you were going to introduce me to the person.”

“Oh, yes, of course.” He chuckled. “Ya boy’s behind counter seven.”

Ya boy?

“Please don’t talk that way,” I said, cringing. “It sounds so wrong on so many levels.”

“Wow, I can’t even talk the way I want around you.” I could imagine the shadow grimacing. “Instead of nitpicking what I do, why don’t you focus on that guy?”

“Right,” I quipped, my eyes flitting to counter seven. A man in a dark blue button-up shirt sat behind it, typing on his computer and occasionally checking the paper on his desk for reference. His expression was flat; monotonous. It wasn’t difficult to tell what kind of person he was.

Boring.

“That’s a really bad habit you got there,” he said, interrupting my thoughts. “You shouldn’t be so quick to judge people. But whatever, you do you.” He paused, and I was able to slip a quick eye roll which he conveniently ignored. “His name is Axel Ford,” he continued. “He’s twenty-seven.”

“And?” I prompted.

“And that’s it.”

“Excuse me? You said you were going to give me all the information I need, but you’re not giving me much to work with here.”

He laughed. “Angela, where’s the fun in giving all the answers? You have to figure out the rest yourself. I don’t think you have the right to complain; it’s not like I’m forcing you to do this.”

I sensed the subtle threat in his voice. I decided to switch my approach to avoid getting on his nerves too much.

“How am I supposed to help him?” I asked. “He can’t even see me. We have a major communication problem here.”

“There’s always a way,” he answered.

“That’s not very helpful advice,” I said, frowning.

“Sure it is.”

“There’s got to be something else you can tell me.”

“Na-uh,” he said lightheartedly. “My work here is done. Good luck!”

“Wait!”

But the way my head fell into absolute silence told me that he had already left. I clicked my tongue, trying to keep my temper at bay. There was no sense in getting upset; I’d rather use my energy to accomplish my goal.

I headed toward counter seven, stopping only when I was directly in front of it, and surveyed Axel Ford’s every action. Now that I was closer, I could see more of his features. He had jet black hair that was combed back, a pair of gray eyes that rarely made contact with his clients, and a pale, sallow complexion that made him look older than twenty-seven. I noted—as he stood up to make a photocopy of a document—that he was about six feet tall, and though he was not as lean as I would have preferred him to be, he still fell under the definition of an attractive man.

“Hey,” I said as he returned to his desk.

I don't know what I expected to happen, but I felt a twinge of disappointment when he didn’t respond. Maybe I was hoping he had some kind of ability to see spirits—a third eye or a sixth sense. It was a long shot—most definitely absurd—yet recent events had led me to believe that it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to keep an open mind, especially since I, someone who used to diss anything paranormal, now existed in a plane that was anything but normal.

Axel hit the backspace on his keyboard several times with a frown, completely unaware of my presence.

I scowled at him, even though I knew it was not his fault that he couldn’t hear me. It was very frustrating—not being heard or acknowledged—and it dawned on me that I was going to have to get used to this for a while. At least, until I got back to being alive.

“Five minutes and we’re out of here,” the woman behind counter eight gushed, whirling her seat around to face Axel. The plaque on her desk read Jasmine Wright. Her flaming red hair framed her heart-shaped face, accentuating her cheekbones and giving her honey-colored eyes a radiant look. She was pretty, but the way her body inched toward Axel longingly, as if the man was an oasis in the middle of a scorching desert, ruined what could have been a good impression. My suspicions were confirmed when she flashed Axel a bright smile and continued, “Say, want to go to a diner or something? I heard there’s a new place in town...”

Desperate.

“Sorry, I can’t tonight,” Axel replied tonelessly, his eyes not leaving the screen of his computer.

Jasmine’s face fell a little, barely managing to keep up the smile. “That’s okay. It’s not like it’s the first time.” She then turned back to her desk, unlocking her smartphone with her fingerprint and acting like she wasn’t just shut down, but her shoulders slumped down ever so slightly.

Huh. She must have been rejected every time she tried to make a move on him. Not that I cared, but why would someone even put up with that kind of humiliation? It was downright stupid.

At exactly five in the afternoon, Axel switched off his computer, stacked the unfinished paperwork, and headed to the back room where I assumed the lockers were located. When he came back out, he was carrying a leather briefcase.

“See you tomorrow, man,” a male colleague called out to Axel as he headed for the door, to which he only responded with a curt nod.

“Asshole,” another male colleague muttered once Axel was out of earshot.

It seemed like he didn’t have a lot of fans at work. Now that was something I could relate to.

I followed him to the parking lot. His ride was an old sedan—a 2000 Honda Civic that was a shade darker than his eyes. It had a dent on the rear and the headlights were yellowish. As he got behind the wheel, I hovered outside the door of the passenger seat, realizing there was one other thing I hadn’t really given a thought of until the opportunity presented itself.

How could I get in the car?