Everyone wishes things could be different. Not everyone gets that wish. Before I was killed by Ian Hendricks, I was an amateur detective. I risked my life frequently, and I knew that each case could be my last. As time grew on, I became a little less afraid of the idea, though I will not say I stopped fearing death. No. That would've been impossible.

When I was shot, I knew that my life as a detective was over. I was afraid, but I think I handled it well.

I don't regret dying. Well, I do, but there were far worse ways to go than that. No, I regret that Frank had to be there. I would rather have died alone, than see the look that was in his eyes before I closed mine for the last time. Heartbreak is a hard thing to bear as you pass on. That's how ghosts are made.

I am not a ghost. I don't know what I am, or where I am, though if I had to guess, this would be heaven. But unlike all those stories you hear when you're alive, where I am, there's no hint of what's happening. Just a sense that things are progressing as they should be.

I'm fine here. I only hope Frank is okay.