…A howl squealed through the trees as a gust slammed into the house. Pictures crashed to the floor.

DiAndra jerked upright to avoid the shattering glass. Wes’s urn slipped from her hands and toppled over. Ashes scattered over and beyond her protective circle.

“Di!” Scott shouted. The door swung open, banging back hard on its hinges.

She scrambled for something to cover herself from Scott and the icy wind that swooped down the chimney over her. Dressed in a gray-blue flannel shirt and jeans, his jaw dropped at the scene before him. DiAndra could only hug herself into a ball and watch in horror as the gust raised Wes’s ashes. Like a small cloud they lifted in the room, hovering over an oblivious Scott. He kicked the door closed, cutting off the draught. Wes’s remains sprinkled over him in a shower of sparkles.

A form took shape over his like a second skin, hinting at a something DiAndra had merely dreamed was possible. He stared at his arms in amazement as he became more than himself. Wes’s image grew stronger, like a crazy double-exposure come to life. Two men in one, with Wes superimposed over Scott. Blue eyes glowed over brown ones. Blond hair highlighted brown. As Scott studied what he’d become, the image flexed with each move.

“S…Scott?”

He glanced her way and her heart skipped.

“Wes?” she gasped out.

“Honey…sweetheart…what did you do?” Confusion furrowed his brow and blurred the image.