She painted on her best fake smile. "Hey there, boss man. Good to see you. You look fantastic."

He didn't, but Janie was a very good liar. He was actually a tiny little shrew of a man. Skinny and frail-looking, with hollow cheekbones. He reminded her of a live-action Mr. Burns from The Simpsons .

Only meaner. And older. And much less yellow.

"Save the compliments for your next life, Parker."

"Listen, Boss, I can explain everything."

He waved his bony hand. "You can save that, too. Come closer."

Janie swallowed and then commanded her feet to start moving. She wanted this. It would hurt only for a second, she hoped. After she was dead, she'd be free from this lonely, disappointing, horrific life once and for all. It was the best decision. Suicide by proxy.

She'd miss her new shoes, but that was about it.

It seemed as though it took about two hours for her to finally reach his desk.

"I'm sorry," she heard herself squeak and then mentally kicked herself.

Shut up.

He stared at her with watery, pale gray eyes. His bony hand slipped down into the drawer on the right-hand side of his black-as-pitch monster of a desk.

What was he reaching for? A gun? A knife? A vial of acid? A bowl of piranhas?

She squeezed her eyes shut and braced herself for impact.

Nothing happened.

"Take a look at this," the Boss said.

She tentatively pried one eye open, and then the other, and looked down. On the surface of the desk was an intricate color drawing of a small crystal sphere almost completely enclosed by a spider web-like filigree of silver at the top of a golden wand set with a single large ruby.