supernatural, I decided I was done. T

fered me a multi-million dollar check to "optimize his karma.

siness," I said over the

er adopted brother, Kevin, stood beh

oice was sharp. "That was millions.

," I said, turni

ed. "Brother Ethan, your ability is a gift. You mediate between the living and the dead, the

ear-streaked face. He begged me to reconsider. He talked about my sacred duty

and the smell of stale beer, not one of those clean VR lounges. I ordered a whiskey and watched a blonde woman dance on the small stage. I drowned my sor

o resolve the lingering echoes of the dead left behind in the digital world. People called them digital ghosts. I was honest. I could fix

anged when Ke

y adopted brother, Ethan. He's h

ered clients the same solutions I did, but for half the price. He didn't need the elaborate rituals, the personal artifacts, the de

o overcharged for simple fixes. Kevin was the real deal, they said. The

ch mogul, not Davies. Kevin had interfered, as he always did. The client died. A grueso

in the smart home's network logs. An alteration. Kevin's signature. He hadn't just predicted the solution; he had created the p

opened

old floor. I was standing in a luxurious, minimalist smart home

ding me a data chip. His f

al ghost... how can he find peace? Our company is suffering.

ords. I had he

blend of sympathy for the client and support for me. Kevin stoo

on the very day m