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I had expected death. I had stayed up some nights imagining what tortures they might use and how much pain I would have to endure; drawn and quartered, flayed alive, the iron maiden, crucified, impaled, even placed in the arena to fight for my life against wolves and bears and other prisoners.
At times I entertained a quick death. A death in battle or a quick field trial and a hanging or beheading. Maybe even a ritual suicide by drinking poison or cutting one of my own arteries. Whatever death would come for me I deserved it and I would accept it.

Joseph looked at the whiteboard and then looked at the computer model again. He just had to double, no quadruple check, what he was seeing. It was THE end. He'd done it; The God Proof. His eyes welled up with emotion, he wanted to shout, but his own internal embarrassment kept him from doing so. Instead he just sat quietly thinking "YES! YES! YES!"

No one is quite sure what caused a well educated, well-liked, middle class man to commit murder, especially thirty-seven of them. It seemed completely random. There weren't any clear connections between the victims. None of the usual preferences of women, or men, or hair color, or some trigger that would have caused him to seek them out. He was just a predator, killing people in the moment.

The Gravemaker finally had Mister Miracle right where he wanted. It was too cliched. He kidnapped Miracle's girlfriend, made her scream a little to draw Miracle in. What he didn't know was that his girlfriend was just one of Gravemaker's minions. She was a prop, paid to draw in Miracle with her damsel in distress shtick about once a month until they made some sort of connection. And now the payoff.

They hired me because of my reputation. Not only was I known for my family, but also that my methods were untraceable. Each one of my 43 contracts so far died in what appeared to be accidents; A slip and fall out on a daily jog, a patch of ice on a winding cliff-side road, an overzealous night with a hooker bringing on a heart attack, a stray peanut down the windpipe. Everyone saw me as some kind of "maestro" for the coordination and creativity it must have taken. They had no idea.

Emma had been my anchor and now with her gone I was adrift again. Just like after the accident. Hopeless. Dead inside. Only this time there was no one to repent to; No one to beg for forgiveness. Emma was gone. My Emma.

Two years, two months, and eight days ago we officially kicked off this little adventure, Princess. It has been a roller coaster at times, but we continue to work hard and to be there for each other. Tomorrow a ring arrives, symbolizing a new promise. Cannot wait to start again. Cannot wait to see what this new year brings for us and what new firsts we'll have together. I love you. I'm glad you stuck it out with me. Here's to the next two years, two months, and eight days together, March 16, 2017. But maybe we'll have more milestones together before then.

It's been a not so great year. We gave one of our dogs back to her original owner, who now has a place for her. It was sad but necessary. However, the hurt came when we lost four of our beloved family members; Frazier to seizures early in the year, he was just a little guy. Then T.J., Kiki, and Tanji later in the year to cancer. T.J. we'd been expecting to go soon, but expected he'd go in his sleep, he was old.

"Okay, I'm going to show you my favorite moment, but you have to promise not to laugh at me. Okay?" Rohan questioned.

"Why would I laugh?" Gita said, already stifling a smirk. She always laughed at him. That was just her thing.

"It's just a little awkward," he said, "and we're going to have to stay in the bubble. This won't be interactive."

At first he thought he was just getting old; His mind slipping a little. Maybe just the stress of long hours and the 'ports back and forth between Lawton and Shima. As much as people said the 'port was safe, he still wondered if it didn't cause cancer or maybe memory loss in his case. He was always skeptical, but he went where the job was and 'porting was the only way to get there anymore.