I could see the recognition in his eyes. "I remember."

"Remember the owner?"

He swallowed and nodded. "The blonde?"

"Perry!" I kicked at him savagely. "Her name was Perry, you shit! She had a name and a life and friends and I love her and you killed her! So now, I'm going to kill you. What do you think of that?"

"Kate," Perry's voice was barely audible. Puente was shivering and shaking like a five-year-old, tears streaming down his face. "Kate, please don't. Don't do this."

"Why not, Perry?" I turned my accusing eyes on her. "Why not?"

"Because this isn't you. This isn't who you are. You're not a cold-blooded killer."

"How do you know?" I spit at her. Puente was watching this exchange with interest, since he obviously could not see Perry. I think the sight of me talking to thin air terrified him even more and he began to whimper like a kitten.

"I know you. I love you. I've seen your heart. I know your heart, and it doesn't have this in it."

"You and I could have had an amazing life together, Perry," I told her, tears suddenly streaming down my face. "When he killed you, he killed that possibility. When he took your life, he took something from me, too." The gun had begun to waver in my hand, the love shining from Perry's eyes burning it's way through the shield of hate I had erected.

"You don't want to kill this kid. Look at him, Kate. He's a boy."

"It might make me feel better," I tried lamely.

"It would make you feel awful. You're not a cold-blooded killer. Please, Kate. Don't cross that line for me. I'd never forgive myself." I looked from her to Puente, who was now crying openly, and back to her. My own muscles began to quiver. "Please, Kate."

"I'm sorry," I said softly. The gun suddenly seemed to weight a hundred pounds and it felt good to lower it. "I just…" The grief rose to the surface and spilled over, despite my best efforts to prevent it. "I don't want you to go." My voice was barely audible, and my heart literally ached. "I love you, and I don't want you to go." I had done such a good job staying stoic for the last few days, allowing my anger to be the reigning emotion, not my grief. I thought I could make it, but instead, I crumpled like a rag doll to the ground, crying in great, wracking sobs that I thought would never end.

Perry knelt by me and held me tightly, rocking me and murmuring reassurances. I remember at one point realizing that she, too, was crying. "You're such a good heart, Katie," she whispered in my ear. "You're so good. If everybody were like you, this world would be such a joyous place. I love you so much."

We sat that way until I heard the siren. An eerie calm settled over me, and I spoke to Perry.

"I'm going to miss you so much." I said it calmly, but with all my heart.

Perry smiled down at me. "I promise to visit you in your dreams."

I looked up at her from where my head was perched on her chest. "You can do that?"

She cocked her head as if wondering where that knowledge had suddenly come from. "That, I know for sure."

"Will you come every night?"

"Wild horses couldn't keep me away."

The slamming of car doors disrupted the moment. Perry pulled me quickly to my feet and pushed me in the direction of the office building's back door. "You need to get out of here. The police will take care of the blubbering mess over here. Go."

I stumbled away from her, noticing with interest that she had become transparent.

"Go!" she ordered again.

"I love you, Perry."

"I love you, too, Kate. See you in your dreams." And just like that, she was gone.

I swallowed hard, my throat painfully constricting, tucked my father's gun into the waistband of my jeans, and entered the back of the office building. Two police officers walked briskly by me, heading in the direction of the whimpering pile of flesh I'd left in the alcove.

A sudden sense of finality washed over me, and I smiled for the first time in days. Perry was free. I knew it in my heart.