"How did your performance go, Miss Patty?"
"I've done better, but I've also done worse. It was a fair night. I was a little sharp on that high note, but the rest of the song was something to be proud of."
"Were you nervous?"
"Not really. I've sung on that stage for twenty years. It's practically home."
"How was the audience tonight?"
"Here and there. They didn't ask for an encore, but they didn't boo me. It really was a rather normal night."
"Then why are you here?"
"I don't know. You tell me."
"I'd like to see what you know about what happened."
"I only know what I heard in the whispers."
"And what did the whispers say?"
"They say that someone died."
"Is that all they say?"
"I didn't listen too closely. Maybe something about a performer. I was on my way out the door."
"Which door did you leave from?"
"I don't remember. Must have been the one that leads right out into the parking lot."
"But you don't remember exactly."
"The lights were bright on the stage, and I sang my hardest. I was tired."
"How tired were you?"
"Well, I don't think I was falling asleep during my own performance. My chest felt a little tight, like it often does after a long day."
"Did your chest pains go away after you sang?"
"I don't know. Sure."
"Do you feel them now?"
"I don't think so."
"Let me get this straight: you don't really remember what happened after you got off the stage."
"That's right."
"But you remember everything that happened before and during your performance."
"That's right. Where is this going?"
"Miss Patty, what if you didn't leave the stage tonight?"
"What do you mean? I'm here, aren't I?"
"Where is here? Have you even wondered who I am?"
"I don't understand. What is happening?"
"Don't panic, Miss Patty. I have one last question for you. I think you know the answer."
"Hurry up. I want to go home."
"Miss Patty, did you leave the stage tonight?"
"I--what--"
"Think about it. Did you leave the stage?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because I died."
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