RACHEL: 

      As he eats his breakfast, Ashley tells everyone about the necklace, and tries to explain how it apparently makes me seem a bit more solid. Jinxx in particular finds this to be quite interesting, so after everyone finishes eating, he suggests that we conduct some experiments before they have to leave for the studio. So we all go to the living room, and after passing the necklace back and forth, and having them move around the house, we figure out that they can all see and hear me as long as they're in the same room with it, but that Ash is still the only one who doesn't actually require it. He's also the only one who perceives me as more substantial, and it only works if he's actually carrying it on his person. 

      Eventually, Bob reminds them that they need to get to work, so everyone rushes around to do their last-minute stuff before gathering back at the front door. Ash holds up the necklace and lets it swing for a couple of seconds, then tucks it into his pocket. "Ready to give this a try?" he inquires.

      "More than ready," I reply, moving to stand next to him. "But since we're not sure if this is gonna work, nobody freak out if I vanish or something when I step off of the porch. That's as far as I've ever been able to get before, I always wind up back in some random room."

      "Well, it's still worth a try, at least," Jinxx says. "If it works, you'll have a little bit of freedom, and if not, then we'll know that the amulet isn't the problem."

      "Yeah, he's right," Ash chimes in. "Worst case scenario, we're narrowing down the possibilities. Just stick close to me, okay?"

      Susan opens the door and stands back to let us out, and stands in the doorway with Charlie, watching as the guys all troop down the steps to stand in the yard, leaving me and Ash standing on the porch. He crooks his arm, the way someone would do to walk in a wedding procession or something, gestures toward the cars with his other hand, and says, "Your chariot awaits, milady. Shall we be off?"

      This makes me giggle, and I bat my eyelashes at him as I put my hand on his arm. Putting on an exaggerated Scarlett O'Hara-style Southern accent, I drawl, "Why, thank you, kind suh! I'd be right pleased to step out with a distinguished group of gentlemen such as yourselves."

      Andy shakes his head and chuckles, "Even when they're semi-transparent, he flirts."

      "And this surprises you why, precisely?" Jake retorts. "Have you actually met our bassist?"

      "It's called being a gentleman," Ash fires back, giving them an exasperated look. "Give it a try sometime." Then he turns back to me and sort of inclines his head toward the steps, in sort of a silent prompt.

      "Yeah, I'm ready," I inform him. "Here goes nothing!"

      I walk down the steps with him, expecting at any second to find myself back in my room, or the pantry, or somewhere inside, but it doesn't happen. Instead, I find myself standing on actual grass for the first time in over a year, and for a split second, I'm not sure how to react. I take a few more steps toward the car, and when nothing happens, I look around at the guys and say, "Holy shit, it really works! I can actually leave the house!"

      Everyone starts cheering and clapping, and I can feel myself smiling from ear to ear as I look around the yard, taking in the work that they've done to the outside of the house, the new landscaping, and the old planter boxes that I remember my mom and some of the other women putting out in the yard when I was little. They give me a minute to look around, and then Bob quietly says, "I hate to have to rush this, hon, but we need to get going."

      CC practically leaps over to one of the cars and opens the passenger door, making a sweeping motion with his other hand. "Ladies first," he announces. "And we'll even let you have the front seat this time, won't we, Jinxx?"

      I get in, he closes the door, and Ash gets behind the wheel as Jinxx and CC climb into the back. Then we pull out of the drive and follow the other guys toward town, and as we go, I comment on things that have changed since the last time I saw them. When we finally get into Edmonton, they actually drive past the place where I used to work on the way to the studio, and I point it out to them. "I see that they've actually expanded into the building next door, so business must be good," I remark. "I'm glad of that, Mr. Gunderson is a really good guy. Like I told you, he let me use the address to have Mom and Evie's travel money sent to, and he helped me sneak away with Sawyer before we got married. Not that we ever told Mrs. Gunderson any of that."

      "Why not?" CC inquires. "You'd think she'd be glad of him being such a nice person."

      "Most people would," I agree. "But she's always been a bit paranoid that he's gonna get up to something behind her back. She never tried to make him fire me, because she knew I was good at my job, but she always threw a fit if there wasn't at least one other person in the shop if he and I were working together."

      "Was there any reason for her to be worried?" Ashley asks.

      "Not even a little bit. I was married to Sawyer, and even if I hadn't been, he wasn't my type. He was close to fifty then, and he looks like Mr. Cunningham from 'Happy Days'. And he's not that type of guy, anyway."

      We finally get to the studio, and the guys point out various things as I follow them inside. They start gathering up their instruments and making sure everything is tuned, and I sort of dash back and forth grabbing things for them so they don't have to stop what they're doing: a pair of gloves for CC, a mug for Andy's Throat Coat tea, and other things of that nature. Then, once he has himself sorted out, Ash sets down his bass and says, "Okay, I'm ready! So why don't you come with me, and I'll show you the control room."

      I follow him into the other room, and Bob looks up from where he's fiddling with a huge panel covered in knobs and levers. "Need something, Ash?" he queries.

      "Nah, just thought I'd show Rachel all the bells and whistles, since this is her first time in a studio."

      "I'm cool with that," Bob replies. "Just don't touch anything on the board. I'm pretty certain that I have everything where it needs to be for this session, and I'd rather not have to use up recording time trying to readjust everything."

      The two of them try to explain what everything on the panel does, and after a few minutes, I hold up my hands and say, "Whoa, let's hold up a minute! You might as well try to teach me to fly a jumbo jet, it would make just about as much sense."

      "Yeah, I guess we were trying to throw things at you a bit too fast," Bob acknowledges. "But if you want to hang in here with me while they do their thing, maybe it'll make a bit more sense."

      CC goes into the recording booth to work out the drum track to a song that they tell me is called "Devil In The Mirror", and when he gets that one down, he goes into one they call "The Shattered God". When he finishes, Ash goes in to record his parts, but between him and Andy deciding to tweak things, he only gets the first one recorded before they break for lunch.

      They decide to try out a Thai restaurant a couple of blocks away, and when we get there, they choose a table next to one of the dividers, so I just kind of perch myself on top of it, since I don't eat anymore, and it would look kind of odd for them to have an "empty" chair at the table. I watch them talk among themselves as they eat, and participate in the conversation whenever it won't draw attention from other people who might wonder why one of them is "talking to himself". But then, just as they're getting ready to ask for the check, something rather unexpected happens.

      I'm looking over CC's shoulder at something he's trying to show me on his phone, and barely notice the group of women walking past the table, until one of them seems to stumble and bumps into it. One of the others catches her arm and asks, "What's wrong, Paula? Are you feeling okay?"

      I hear a familiar voice respond with, "Umm... yeah, I guess so. I just thought for a second that I saw someone I used to know." I look up abruptly, and see Mrs. Gunderson, looking rather pale and blinking rapidly.

      "Well, maybe you did," one of her companions remarks. "Lord knows this place is crowded enough that you could run into just about anyone."

      "No, I didn't, because it's not possible," she returns. "Because the person I thought I saw has been dead for over a year." They continue toward the door, with her friends attempting to reassure her, and the guys all just pause and look at each other somewhat oddly.

      After they settle their bill, we go back to the studio, and as soon as we get inside, Bob calls a meeting with the guys, and they spend several minutes closed up in the booth. When they come out, everyone looks sort of uncomfortable, so I know that something is wrong. "Okay, guys, what gives?" I ask. "Something's obviously wrong, so you might as well just spill it."

      Everybody turns to look at Ash, and he lets out a deep sigh. "Uh, well..." he starts. "Considering what happened at the restaurant, we were thinking that it might not be the best idea for you to go to public places with us anymore. You did live here, so there's a pretty fair chance of running into somebody you knew again. It's too much of a risk."

      Damn! Unfortunately, I have to acknowledge that they have a valid point, and I feel like a balloon that someone has just stuck a pin in. "Shit, I should have known it was too good to last," I sigh. "Oh, well, at least I got one outing."

      "Hey, nobody's saying that you have to go back to being stuck in the house," he assures me. "You can still come here with us, as long as we don't have an interview or anything scheduled, and we can go out and walk around outside when we have time off. I promise you, nobody plans to make you go back to being trapped inside, but you don't want the wrong people to see you, do you? I mean, what if we'd run into the little girl who was at the concert with you? Or one of your dad's people?"

     "Yeah, I know you're right, but that doesn't mean I have to like it," I tell him. "But I guess that's how it has to be. But I am holding you to what you just said, so you can count on the fact that if it's not raining in the morning, I'll be waking somebody up to go have a nature walk before you have to come out here for the day."

      They all agree, and I take a seat on top of a file cabinet as they get back to work. And as I watch them work on the songs, a very familiar thought once again crosses my mind:

      Being dead really, really sucks.