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I knew what my uncle was doing, and it was sweet of him to try to get Sophie to spend some time with me before I died. But even if she felt guilty after I was gone, I couldn’t imagine her actually missing me, and I really didn’t want to spend my last night on earth with my spoiled, bitchy cousin.

Unfortunately, she liked her new car more than she disliked me. Sophie wasn’t going anywhere.

“Fine. But we’re watching Aliens.” I plucked the remote from her fist. “And if you want something more substantial than popcorn, there may be some carrot sticks in the fridge. But they’re about a month old, so they may be more green than orange by now.”

Sophie made a face. “It’s a wonder you’re still alive, the way you eat.”

“Give it one more day,” I mumbled under my breath, and Emma frowned.

“Okay, I got green olives on one side, ’cause I like green olives,” Tod said, half a second after blinking into existence in the doorway between the living room and the kitchen.

Sophie jumped at the sound of his voice and whirled around fast enough to make my head spin. Her eyes widened at the sight of him, and for one irrational moment, I wanted to step in front of him so she couldn’t even look at him. I might only have him for a couple of days, but he was mine. Completely. “Who the hell are you?”

Tod glanced at me with one brow raised in surprise, holding a grease-stained pizza box. “Who am I, Kay?”

I stood and took the pizza from him. “This is my…Tod.”

“Your Tod?” Sophie frowned, then understanding brightened her eyes and she stood, eyeing him like she might assess him for quality control. “You’re the guy from the math hall.” She said it like an accusation. Then she turned to me, reluctantly impressed. “He’s why you dumped Nash?”

Tod’s eyes narrowed in anger. “You shouldn’t talk about things you don’t understand. Which should leave you pretty damn quiet.”

Sophie blinked, and a flash of temper flared in her eyes. “You don’t even know me.”

“I know enough.” Tod had seen Sophie die, and he’d helped reinstate her soul. He’d expelled Avari from her body when she was possessed. He’d seen her insult me and Emma over and over. “What is she doing here?” He asked, following me into the kitchen, where I set the pizza box on the counter and pulled a stack of paper plates from an overhead cabinet.

“Her dad sent her. I think he wants us to spend some time together.”

“Then I’m forced to question his wisdom.”

I handed him a plate, and as I turned to dig some sodas from the fridge, I heard Sophie whisper from the living room. “But who is he? And why the hell do hot guys keep throwing themselves at Kaylee?”

Tod blinked out of the kitchen, and before I could hiss for him to come back, he appeared behind Sophie’s chair and leaned down inches from her ear. “Because she’s nice. Maybe you should try it.”

Sophie nearly jumped out of her own skin, and I couldn’t help laughing, which ruined the stern face I tried to scold Tod with.

“How did you get back there?” she demanded.

Tod shrugged. “The usual way.”

“I didn’t see you…” She glanced up at the path he would have had to take to walk past her.

Tod shrugged. “Maybe you’re losing it. I hear they make pills for that.”

Em laughed and Sophie glared at him, and I was thoroughly amused to realize she was—for maybe the first time ever—speechless.

Emma started the movie, and Sophie ate the tomatoes and olives from her slice of pizza, but instead of watching Aliens, she watched me and Tod. Which made us both uncomfortable. He wasn’t accustomed to being seen by people he didn’t like, and I was sure she was watching us and thinking about Nash, and my guilt compounded under her scrutiny.

Four hours later, Sophie slouched over in her chair, asleep, and Emma fell into a food coma with Styx on her lap, chocolate on her breath, and Ripley fighting prison planet aliens on the TV. I decided to let her sleep until my dad got home, so Tod and I would have a little semi-privacy.

“Thanks for staying,” I whispered to keep from waking Emma. “I can’t think of a better way to spend my last night.” Sophie, not withstanding.

“Beats the hell out of fighting an evil math teacher, doesn’t it?” he said, curling the fingers of his free hand around mine. “Or keeping Nash from sneaking out to replace his stash.”

“I wish there was something we could do for him.”

“If there were, I’d be doing it. Sabine will call if she needs help,” Tod said, and that reminded me of something I’d meant to ask him earlier.

“Did she tell you why I called her on Sunday?” I asked, sitting up so I could see his face. “Right before she called and told you to interrupt me and Nash?” When I’d asked her for advice about sex…

Tod’s irises swirled in a twist of amusement, and I wanted to cover my face with both hands. “There’s no shame in learning from the voice of experience,” he said.

“Aggghhh!” I snatched a couch pillow and screamed into it, venting embarrassment, and only stopped when Tod pulled the pillow from my grasp, still smiling.

“Kay, I thought it was cute.” He frowned, then rephrased. “Well, now I think it’s cute. At the time…not so much.”

“It’s not cute!” I snapped, considering pulling the throw blanket over my head. “It’s humiliating.”

“You’re cute when you’re humiliated.”

“I’m glad you think so.” I ran my hands through my hair to smooth it after the pillow incident. “That seems to be my perpetual state.”

“Yeah, well, that’s better than my perpetual state of not-really-alive, right?”

“I don’t know, from where I’m sitting, facing actual death, dead-but-still-here looks pretty good.”

“Well, it’s not,” Tod said, and I was surprised by his sharp tone. “Being with you today was beyond amazing. But it doesn’t accurately reflect the rest of my afterlife. Being alone in a crowd with you is one thing. But being alone for the rest of eternity?” He shook his head slowly. “You don’t want this, Kaylee. I don’t want this for you. And neither would your dad.”

Except that I wouldn’t be alone, if I were a reaper, and neither would Tod. We’d be together. But… “Don’t worry. I don’t qualify, right?” Because I was actually scheduled to die. “The reapers won’t even be looking at me.” Except for Tod, and whoever they sent for my soul. “I’m actually going to die.”

Tod started to respond—probably ready to convince me that true death was a mercy—but then his phone rang from his pocket, cutting off whatever he’d been about to say. “It’s Sabine,” he said, glancing at the display. “Shit.”

An uneasy feeling settled into my stomach, worry for him amplifying my guilt.

“Go ahead,” I said, when he looked unsure about answering. “She wouldn’t call if she didn’t need something.”

Tod flipped open his phone, and though I only heard his half of the conversation, the gist of it was clear. Nash had become too much for her to handle, at least for the moment. “Okay, I’ll be right there.” The reaper hung up and met my gaze, irritation swirling slowly in his. “His temperature keeps dropping and he can’t keep anything down. They need me to go get my mom.” Because he could blink her home from work faster than she could drive.

“Isn’t that a little severe? He’s only been sober for, like twelve hours.”

“The relapse seems to be hitting him harder than the original addiction. That could mean he’s using a different source this time—not Avari—or that he’s taking a stronger dose. Or that his body’s less able to fight the physical backlash this time because none of this is new anymore.”

The possibilities did nothing to lessen my fear for him, settling onto me like a physical weight. This was my fault, even if I hadn’t popped a balloon in his face this time.

“I have to go,” Tod said, and my hand tightened around his involuntarily while my heart thudded in my ear.

“I know. It’s fine.” But it wasn’t. Not really. It was almost midnight. Almost Thursday. Almost the day of my death. My dad wasn’t back yet, my cousin and best friend were sleeping peacefully without the crippling fear I couldn’t shake free from, and death was looming over my shoulder, lurking in every shadow I glanced at, every panicked beat of my heart. “Nash needs you.” I knew that. But letting go of Tod’s hand was the hardest thing I’d ever had to do.