He saw me.

The change in his face was magnificent. The color drained from his skin so fast he looked grey. His mouth fell open. He tried to stand, but his knees seemed to fail him. He sank back onto the wooden bench.

Sarah looked at him, confused, then followed his gaze to me.

I reached the front of the altar. I stood directly beneath the giant screen showing my own face. I turned to face the congregation.

The slideshow continued behind me. A picture of me in my garden flickered onto the screen, casting a green light over my shoulders.

“Good morning, everyone,” I said. My voice was clear. It carried perfectly to the back row.

Nobody spoke. The organist’s hand slipped on the keys, creating a sharp, dissonant screech before the music stopped entirely.

“I want to thank you all for coming,” I said, looking over the sea of shocked faces. “It is truly heartwarming to see how much I was loved in a town I have never visited.”

I looked down at Gerald. He was staring at me like I was a ghost.

“Dorothy?” he whispered. His voice was cracked.

“Hello, Gerald,” I said. “You forgot your tie clip this morning. It was on the dresser.”

Sarah stood up, her face white. She looked at me, then at Gerald, then at the ring on her finger.

“Gerald,” she stammered. “Who is this?”

“I am Dorothy,” I said politely. “The deceased.”

A gasp went through the crowd. It started in the front row and moved backward like a wave.

I walked over to Sarah. She shrank back, but I merely reached down and gently took her hand. I looked at the sapphire ring.

“This belonged to my mother,” I said to her. “The prongs are indeed quite tight. I will be taking it back now.”

I slid the ring off her finger. She didn’t resist. She was too terrified to move.

I turned back to the congregation.

“I believe there is a donation box in the foyer,” I said. “Since I am remarkably healthy, I suggest we return those funds to their rightful owners. Or perhaps we should hand them over to the sheriff’s department.”

I looked at Gerald. He looked like a man who had just watched his entire life collapse in thirty seconds.

“Let’s go home, Gerald,” I said. “We have some packing to do.”

I walked back down the aisle. The congregation parted for me like the Red Sea.

Gerald followed me out of the church. He was stumbling, his hands shaking. We didn’t speak on the drive back. He drove his car, and I drove mine.

When we got home, the locksmith was already waiting in the driveway. I had called him from the road. Gerald pulled in behind me. He got out of his car, his face desperate.

“Dorothy, please,” he said. “Let me explain. It wasn’t what you think.”