“Lucius Beamount, have you lost your senses?”

He chuckled and turned to the voice of his wife, Hattie Mae. Her lavender scent surrounded him like a warm blanket. “No, just my life.”

She rolled her eyes. “I swear, you’re more incorrigible in death than you were in life.”

“Yeah, but you love me.” He winked. “Why else would you choose to stay and haunt the earth with me instead of moving on?”

“Maybe I’m the one who’s lost their senses.” She shook her head. “It’s December 22—the winter solstice. You’d better fill me in as to why we’re missing our once a year chance to pass into the light. Who are we helping this time?”