Héctor dropped his skull on the desk. "How many more are there?" he grumbled into the freshly signed form. He never imagined death would involve so much bureaucracy.

"I'm sorry, senor," said a woman who called herself a 'recently deceased special cases manager', "but hauntings require a lot of paperwork, especially after how long you lingered." She gestured at the massive file with his name on it.

He lifted his head, eyes narrowed. "I didn't want to linger."

"No one does, but that doesn't change a thing," The case manager dismissed, laying another form down in front of Héctor. "This one is a poltergeist activity report. On this, check of any objects you interacted with along with the typical type of interaction. Examples include smashing vases, moving chairs across the floor… that sort of thing."

"But I couldn't even touch anything."

"Oh, that makes things easier." She drew a line down a row of boxes and had him sign again. "Now, this next one is about interactions with paranormal investigators."

Héctor stopped listening and let his eyes slide to the door. HE wondered what would happen if he simply walked out. Could they stop him? Was there a punishment? An amused smile came to his lack-of-lips. What could they do? Kill me?

"Senor Rivera…" The case manager glared down at him like a schoolteacher scolding a naught student. "We have a lot to get through and it will all go faster if you pay attention."

Héctor sighed. "When do I get to see my family?" It was the only thing he cared about since he arrived in the afterlife. Hell, it was the only thing he cared about for a century.

"Your family was called down to the department when you arrived. You can see them as soon as you finish your paperwork."

"So, another century?" he said, eyeballing the pile of paperwork he still had to get through.

"I demand to speak to the person in charge!"

The shout came from outside the room. Héctor knew that voice. "Imelda?" He got up from his chair.

"Senor," the manager called as he walked out of the room. "You haven't finished yet. Senor?"

He followed the voice to the open area of the Department of Family Reunions. There he saw her. She was older than he remembered and, like everyone else, a skeleton, but there was no doubt about it. The warmth that filled his ribcage confirmed it was her.

She was surrounded by family members he didn't recognize. He could only assume they came about after he died. But there was one among them, an old woman with braided pigtails, who looked familiar. His phantom heart dropped when he realized who it was.

"You called my family down here, saying we have a new arrival," she yelled at the woman behind the desk. "I thought it was my granddaughter or my grandson-in-law. You're telling me it's my no-good husband?"

"I'm sorry, but that's the name in our database," the woman said, shrinking behind a strange white box.

"That's impossible! Do you have any idea how old he'd be?!"

"It's more complicated than that," the woman explained. "You see, he was a ghost for some time. He arrived today but he died in…" she pushed some buttons on the strange box, "1921."

Imelda's jaw dropped. "1921?"

"Mamá, that's the year he left for his tour," Coco said.

Imelda shook the stunned look off of her face. "How did he die?"

The woman pushed some more buttons. "Let's see, he listed his death as homicide via poison by… wait, that's can't be right…"

"What?"

"He listed his murderer as Ernesto de la Cruz, but he can't mean the same…"

"I knew it!" Imelda slammed her hand down on the desk. "I always knew that man would only lead to trouble."

"Mamá, when I was a girl, my friends would listen to Ernesto's records," Coco said, taking a step closer to her mother. "He'd sing Papá's songs, but the record never had Papá's name on it."

"You're saying he was killed over a few songs?" Imelda roared. Everyone with a right might cowered in fear. "When I get my hands on that spineless worm, he'll regret every peso he made off of my husband."

"I appreciate that you'd go to such lengths for me," Héctor said, approaching the desk.

"You!" Imelda marched up to him and delivered a solid slap to his face. His skull spun all the way around. It was a strange new sensation to say the least. "Do you have any idea how long I waited for you to come home?!" she shouted.

"102 years?" he suggested. "That's how long I've waited to see you."

"Well, what kept you?" Imelda snapped. "You left so it was your job to come home."

Héctor lowered his head. "You're right. I wanted to. I was going to leave Ernesto on the tour and come home you and Coco. He toasted me on my way out, but he poisoned my drink. I died in the streets but my spirit made it to the train station. I was trapped there for a century before Miguel found me."

"Miguel?"

"I met him." Héctor could feel his won face light up. "I met Rosa and Abel. I met our granddaughter, Elena… If it weren't for them, I'd still be trapped. They saved me. They set me free."

Imelda's face softened but she took a step back. She closed her eyes and he knew a battle raged in her head. It was a lot to take in, he knew. Accepting it would take time. Her eye snapped open, anger restored. "So what? You left me alone with a child to raise and-"

"Mamá," Coco interjected, stepping up to them, "we should hear him out."

Imelda's mouth fell open. "Coco?"

"He's been trying to come home all this time," their daughter went on.

"And he's only about a hundred years late," Imelda snapped.

"I know you're still angry, Mamá, but I'm not. Ever since I was a little girl, all I wanted was to see Papá again." She took a few steps closer and smiled at him. To him, it was like seeing the sunshine for the first time. "Now he's here." She turned back to her mother. "He's part of our family. I at least want to know what happened to him."

Imelda's eyes darted from Héctor, to Coco, to the rest of her family. They looked on expectantly, holding their breath for the answer. Finally, she sighed and said, "Fine, we'll hear him out, but I make no promises about forgiveness."

Coco smiled like she knew a secret. "It's a start Mamá."

She turned back to her father. Héctor wasn't sure what to do first. His daughter was here, in front of him, for the first time in over a century. She held out her arms, letting him know it was okay. He dove in to hug her, holding her close. His heart hurt, it was so full of joy. His girl, his little girl, was here in his arms after all these years.

So much changed so quickly. Mere weeks ago, he was just another nameless specter. No family, no friends, no knowledge of the life he lived before. He thought he'd remain that way forever, doomed to that empty existence. Miguel changed all that; Miguel and the rest of his family.

Now he could hug his daughter again. He could feel his love for her and the love she had for him in return. He had a past, he had a future, and the present was beautiful.

As he held his Coco in his arms, the tears fell from his eyes once again.