Eric stared at the person. It wasn't Shelly. He knew that he hadn't lived with Shelly in this apartment, plus she was dead.

He was squatting on the windowsill, staring through the window on the first floor of the apartment building. The person was walking around their room.

This was his apartment, and suddenly, it wasn't. Two years of being dead and people had taken everything. He had no place to go as the rain belted against his back and roof as he stared.