Home Entertainment Game Technology Advertisement Part 2: For eight years, my parents made me leave the house every time my brother brought his fiance over; Mom said, “She comes from a good family, don’t embarrass us”; Dad added, “Just disappear for the weekend”; I did; then one weekend, I never came back; it took them four years to find out where I went.

For several seconds, I could only stare at Avery.

The nursery around us continued as though reality had not just changed shape.

A forklift beeped somewhere behind the greenhouse.

Water hissed through the misting lines.

A customer laughed near the roses.

And on the potting bench between us lay a document claiming I had died twelve years earlier.

STACEY MARIE BENTON.

My name.

My date of birth.

The date of death:

March 17, 2014.

The exact date I had been hospitalized.

I touched the paper.

“No.”

Avery's voice shook.

“I had the same reaction.”

“No, I mean this can't be real.”

“It has a county certification.”

“I have a driver's license.”

“I know.”

“I file taxes.”

“I know.”

“I own this business.”

“I know.”

“I have a bank account.”

“I know, Stacey.”

I looked up.

“Then how can I be dead?”

Avery slowly removed another document from the envelope.

“This is why I came.”