October 5, 1996

Samantha "Sam" Allen scowled at the head nurse's back. She was a temp, so her years of experience meant nothing here at Bethesda. She should be retired now. She could be relaxing in her rambling, old house and preparing for the day Kyla would come to her to learn her quest.

She wasn't. No, she was spending what should be her twilight years on this endless quest to find the group who would be so pivotal. She had always known where Kyla was. In addition, she had found Jason two years ago and Liz just a few months ago.

She was starting to think the deities running this show had a wonderful sense of humor. Kyla was still young, so she could be anything by the time she matured; but Liz? An atheist on a religious journey? How ridiculous could you get?

"Be still, Sam," Heather chided her.

"Oh, do shut up! You don't have to take orders from that stuffed shirt!" She was being testy with Heather, and she knew it. Leave it to a ghost not to appreciate human pressures and pains.

"I heard that, and you know very well that I remember pain and loss."

Sam sighed. Yes, Heather remembered pain and loss. Sam still remembered the night she'd found herself saddled with the feisty, young ghost -- the night Heather had died. After that, Sam's life had ceased to be her own, though most days she didn't regret it as much as she did at this moment in time.

Sam collected the chart on her newest victim and headed to his room.

Yes, Heather knew pain and loss, and this damned job was even more of a reminder to her. At times, the ghost would return from looking in on Kyla, hopelessly sad. There was nothing Sam could say to ease her pain at those times. Only once the job was done would Heather find peace -- and Sam with her.

Sam worried that she might be reassigned at first. Temps often were in hospitals, but Heather was right, as usual. As long as Sam didn't ask to be reassigned, she would be "stuck with" Joseph Connor, the life of low person on the totem pole.