Crimes of Cupidity (Heart Hassle Book 3)

I remember when I first came to the afterlife.

I floated. For a long time. Just like I’m doing now.

There was a lot of nothing. A lot of waiting for nothing. A lot of being nothing. I have no way of knowing how long I waited in that nothing, because then there was just suddenly something.

Something that pulled me.

I’d forgotten about that until right now. Now that I’m stuck in the nothing again, I remember. Because that same pull is here again.

I’m drawn through the ether until I’m surrounded by four solid shadows. I can’t see bodies or faces—just looming shapes around me. But inside those shadows, are floating threads, and those threads, I realize, are trying to reach for me.

The threads wind and blow and float around, all the while I can feel them calling to me. When I look down at my own shadowed form, I see a similar knotted thread straining to reach back. It’s blackened and wilted-looking, but it’s there.

I know that if my thread can just touch them, everything will be alright. I don’t know how or why, but it’s the only sure thought I have.

It takes great effort to reach for them. It takes every ounce of strength and willpower that I have. They reach for me, too, pulsing with life in shades of white, and the closer I get, the more my own thread begins to glow again, too.

The moment the threads touch, I’m yanked out of the nothing.