He never told Marlo the truth and she died without giving him the chance to confess. And for five years, Mack has been drowning in the certainty that somehow, in some cosmic way he can't explain, his betrayal is what killed her.
That guilt is what fractured him. That's when the Triple-D started. That's when part of him separated and began floating above, watching, judging, never letting him forget.
Now Mack works mall security and writes bad crime fiction based on his old homicide cases. His only friends are his guns (Sig and Barry), his 1976 Chevy Impala (Paula), and Marlo's white Persian cat, Phil—who drinks fingertip bourbon, watches Mack with knowing eyes, and might just be a vessel for Marlo's spirit.
Mack also keeps getting phone calls from a blocked number. Just silence on the other end. But the calls come at critical moments— tipping point moments that always seem to hold Mack’s life in the balance.
Is Marlo reaching out from beyond? Or is Mack's desperate need for forgiveness finally breaking what's left of his mind?