Errol didn't know what to say. He knew that he had died, had known it since the second he'd opened his eyes and found himself here. There had never been any doubt in his mind about that. He'd lost sleep thinking about it. But hearing it from the man who'd killed him was another thing entirely. He set his book down carefully on the counter to keep from dropping it, his hands surprisingly steady.
"I am," he said quietly, keeping a wary eye on Preston. "But here I am."
At John's apology, he actually smiled a little bit, just a twitch at the corner of his mouth and a slight crinkling of his eyes. "Don't be. I'm happier than I've ever been." With that barrier broken, he finally found himself able to think clearly. "What are you doing here? Did you just arrive?"