The Harris case should have been routine.
Young couple, first baby, activity that started shortly after bringing the infant home from the hospital. Classic residual haunting: a previous occupant who'd died in the house, unable or unwilling to move on, drawn to the new life that had entered their former space.
Ed had called me two weeks ago with the details. "Simple job. In and out. Good way to ease back into the work."
He'd been right about the simplicity. The ghost was a grandmother named Eleanor who'd lived in the house for sixty years before passing peacefully in her sleep. She wasn't malevolent, just confused, disoriented by the new family, unable to understand why strangers were living in her home and why no one could see her.
The cleansing ritual was textbook. Gentle persuasion, not force. Reminding Eleanor that her family waited for her on the other side, that her time in this house was finished, that she could rest now.
I was midway through the prayers when Ed clutched his chest.
It was subtle. I might have missed it if I hadn't been watching him closely. His left hand rose to press against his sternum. His face went pale, then gray. Sweat broke out on his forehead despite the cool temperature in the room.
"Ed?"
"I'm fine." The words came through gritted teeth. "Keep going."
Lorraine was at his side in an instant, her hand on his arm, her expression shifting from concern to controlled fear. "Ed. What's wrong?"
"Nothing. Just stress." He straightened, visibly forcing his body back under control. "Finish the ritual, Paul. Eleanor's almost ready to cross."
He was right. I could feel Eleanor's presence wavering, her resistance crumbling as the prayers reached her. But I could also see Ed's pallor, the tightness around his eyes, how he leaned slightly to his left.
I made a decision.
"Lorraine, take over the prayers. I need to finish the crossing."
She understood immediately. While she helped Ed to a chair, murmuring the continuation of the ritual, I focused everything I had on Eleanor's spirit.
"It's time," I said quietly, reaching out with senses that had grown sharper since the Perron case. "Your family is waiting. Your husband. Your children. They've been waiting a long time."
Eleanor's form flickered in my perception, not visible to ordinary eyes, but clear to mine. She looked at me with an expression of such profound loneliness that my heart ached.
"I've been here so long," she whispered. "I forgot how to leave."
"I'll show you the way."
I extended my hand. She took it: her touch cold, insubstantial, but real in the ways that mattered. Through our connection, I pushed images of light, of peace, of reunion with loved ones who'd crossed before her.
Eleanor smiled.
And then she was gone.
[MINOR CASE: COMPLETE]
[ENTITY: ELEANOR HARRIS. CROSSED PEACEFULLY]
[SOUL INTEGRITY: STABLE · 100/115]
The Harris family thanked us profusely. The young mother let me hold the baby while she signed the paperwork. He was a tiny, perfect creature who grabbed my finger and wouldn't let go, completely unaware that ghosts and demons existed, that darkness prowled at the edges of the world.
I looked at that small face and felt something settle in my chest.
This was why we fought. This innocence. This life. This future that needed protecting.
I cornered Ed outside, away from the family.
"You need to see a doctor."
"I'm fine." He was digging in his pockets for car keys, not meeting my eyes. "It was nothing. Just stress."
"Ed." I stepped into his path, blocking his retreat. "I know what heart pain looks like. My grandfather died of a heart attack when I was twelve. I watched it happen."
The lie came easily, my actual grandfather had died before I was born, in my original life. But the effect was real. Ed stopped, finally looking at me.
"It's been happening more often," I continued. "Hasn't it? The chest pain. The shortness of breath. You've been hiding it from Lorraine, from me, from everyone."
"The work doesn't stop just because I'm getting older."
"The work also doesn't help anyone if you die in the middle of a case."
"That's not..."
"Thirty years of this, Ed. Thirty years of facing demons and curses and things that would break anyone else. Your body has limits. You're not invincible."
Lorraine appeared beside us, her expression carefully neutral but her eyes showing the fear she was working to contain.
"He's right," she said quietly. "Ed, you need to be examined. Whatever this is, we need to know."
Ed looked between us: his wife and his... whatever I was. Adopted son. Protégé. Partner. The fight drained out of him slowly, replaced by something close to acceptance.
"Fine. I'll make an appointment."
"Tomorrow," Lorraine said. "Not next week. Not when you have time. Tomorrow."
"Tomorrow."
He didn't argue further. That, more than anything else, told me how scared he actually was.
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― DECREE ―
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