"What sort of arrangement did you have in mind?" Death asked me almost as an afterthought as she shuffled through the folders on her desk. And at that moment, I wish I had had a better answer. When I made an appointment to meet with her, I was hoping that a simple explanation would do, that she would understand that this was all just a horrible misunderstanding.

"I don't know. What do you usually do in these cases?" As soon as these words left my mouth, Death put down the folders, and I saw the names and faces of the members of the Lane family. Photos of them in happy times, crime scene photos of their bodies scattered on the ground. It took every ounce of energy I had not to vomit.

"What do we usually do? In these cases? Mr. Davis, these cases don't usually happen. What you're asking is very unusual to say the least."

"It is?"

"Yes, Mr. Davis, it is. You see, here at intake, we have people who forecast deaths. Everyone has a profile, everyone has a forecast. This includes likelihood of illnesses, accidents from reckless behavior, and the like. Are you following?" I nodded. "Good, because this is where you come in.

"These forecasts also include near miss events, those occasions where someone would almost die, where we, where I have to be ready to meet someone. Do you know what the forecast for the Lane Family was that day?"

"No?" I asked timidly.

"No probably chance of death. Next to zero. Why? Because we assumed that after the way Mr. Lane had been acting that day, his threats, his erratic behavior, that someone would connect that dots and stop him. You, Mr. Davis, had that opportunity. You saw him in the morning, you saw him in the afternoon. You were fearful when you met him on the sidewalk, you could have done something, and you didn't. You condemned them to death."

"But.." Death looked at me unamused and disinterested in my excuses. "...I just want to bring them back.

"You want to bring them back? Come, sit over here." Death stood up and offered me her seat. I cautiously stood up and walked around to the chair. It was cold, but it was comfortable.

"What now?" I asked

"You are Death now." She said with a hint of relief in her voice. "You have stood by while innocents suffered. You have already established yourself as the arbiter of life and death for the Lane family, why not everyone else. You are qualified." Death grabbed her jacket and began to exit. "You have a collection at 3:00 on Madison. Good Luck and Godspeed Mr. Davis. Or should I say Mr. Death."