You're dead," I repeated. "So why are you in my dream?"
He raised the bill of his olive drab ball cap with one finger. " Good question. Morbid, isn't it?"
"What?"
"Dreaming about dead peolpe. Creepy. You ever see a therapist about that?"
"I'm not -" Even in dreams, I couldn't win an argument. Even when he was dead.

Author: Rachel Caine