Chapter 1

For three years after my death, my mortal enemy Julian Davies visited my grave.

The first year, he threw a wild party right on my tombstone.

The second year, he hosted a barbecue party in front of my grave.

The third year, he didn't show up.

I heard he'd fallen into a river trying to pick up his phone.

Now, he was the one dying.

Julian was dying.

He'd jumped into a raging river for a phone. He managed to grab it but couldn't swim back up.

They pulled him out, but he never woke up. Now he was lying in a coma in the ER.

When I heard the news, I laughed for three solid minutes.

Served him right!

After dedicating his life to making mine a living hell, did he expect any other ending?

Karma's a bitch who always comes to collect.

But when my laughter faded, a cold dread settled in my ghostly heart. He'd dug a burial plot right next to my grave years ago, even erecting a headstone with his name on it.

If he died, would he really be buried there?

Wouldn't that mean he'd be my neighbor for all eternity?

No way.

How much peace would I get because of him?

To confirm if Julian was truly kicking the bucket, I floated over to the city hospital.

Today, the hospital entrance was unusually lively.

Lots of media reporters were camped out, waiting for Julian.

Two years ago, Julian had gone viral for a stunningly evocative photo.

In the picture, he was dressed in black, clutching foxglove lilies under a traffic light.

His expression was desolate, his eyes filled with sorrow.

Not long after, a renowned director handpicked him to play a quiet, brooding supporting role in a high school romance drama.

He only had a handful of scenes. But one of them - a desperate, wordless crying scene- became his breakout. Overnight, he was a sensation.

Now, he was a white-hot talent, hailed as one of the most gifted actors of his generation.

Of course, all the fuss was for the reporters and paparazzi, not Julian.

Inside the intensive care unit, one Julian lay in bed.

Another Julian stood by the window.

The one in bed was hooked up to a breathing machine and countless monitors, still and peaceful, like a sleeping prince.

The one by the window was transparent, his face blank, his eyes vacant and hollow.

Whoa, seriously?

It looked like he was really dying; his soul had already left his body.

To drown himself over a phone...

I really wanted to go over and mock him.

But before I could even take two steps, the Julian by the window suddenly turned his head, as if he had eyes in the back of it, without any warning.

When he saw me, his expression was three parts shock, seven parts delight.

"Summer?"

Before I could answer, he suddenly walked over.

His voice low and choked, he pulled me into a hug.

"Summer! I've missed you so much!"

Wait, what the hell was hugging me?

Was this really that Julian, the one who traded insults with me the second we met?