Stretch didn't know what do or think as he wondered the grounds of whipstaff. He wondered off to the gazebo in the garden and sat down. He brought the bottle to his mouth but didn't drink.

"Walk me home Oran."

"It's freezing out Tara."

"I'll keep you warm."

He shook his head drinking down a mouth full. He had to get the thoughts out of his head. He couldn't remember that night. H couldn't let himself. Why did Kat have to bring it up the other day? Why did she have to open his heart so much?

"What about Jonathan?"

"He doesn't have to know. He never notices me anyway. He is always messing with his inventions. I doubt he even loves me anymore."

"Tara..."

He couldn't take it anymore. He couldn't take the guilt. If he hadn't given in she wouldn't have died like a dog. If he hadn't agreed to take that walk. If he hadn't agreed to stop at...

"Please forgive me Jonathan," he whispered to himself.

"He forgave you long ago," came a female voice.

Stretch looked up and wasn't surprised to see Amelia staring back at him. She had come to him a couple of times since the Harvey's arrival at whipstaff.

"He forgave you," she said sitting down next to him. "Yet, you have not forgiven yourself."

"I can't," he said. "She wouldn't have died that night if I hadn't given in to her."

Amelia said nothing. She reached forward and took the bottle out of his hands. She tossed it off into the bushes.

"You are a good person," she said. "You have a hard time admitting it to yourself and others."

Stretch shook his head remembering that night. He had taken Tara to a church dinner. His brothers had stayed at home. None gave much thought to religion. Tara had propositioned him. He had given in. He didn't know why he had. He knew it was wrong. He knew it was a sin. They had walked towards home and stopped off a neighbors barn. It was late and there was not a soul in sight. They had done the deed right there in the hay pile.

Afterwords they kept walking home. They were jumped by a mugger. Tara had been killed in the scuffle. He had survived. The man dropped his hand gun as he fled the scene when he realized he had committed murder.

He couldn't return home with news of Tara's death. He would have to explain why they were walking home. There was no way he could look his brother in the face. He would tell him the truth if he did and he knew that would kill him. He knew he couldn't live with the guilt of what he had done. He would kill himself right there and end it. He picked up the handgun, put it to his head, and pulled the trigger.

He knew that a later paper hadn't accounted for his suicide. The police had assumed he was also killed in the scuffle.

"You just saved my daughter's life," the angel explained. "And I owe you for that."

Stretch didn't say anything. He just looked down and rubbed his hands together.

"I think you've earned a bit of a pass," she said.

The ghost looked up in a surprise. He knew what she meant but he didn't understand why.

"The same I did for Casper," Amelia said. "But it will be a bit longer for you."

"Why?" he questioned.

"I think you need it," she said. "I think Kat needs it."

"I don't know what you mean," Stretch said. "How long anyway?"

"You'll see what I have planned," she said and opened her hands.

A whiff of powder came out and things went foggy for the ghost.