You gathered that, right? The fact that I’m dead and have returned to the realm for others like me who have transitioned into angels?
Of course you caught on. Smart cookie.
Anyway, after my death, she needed all the warmth she could get.
Ah, Iris, also and better known as Irie. My little sister.
My early departure from life over two years ago nearly broke her. And although her grief fought hard to consume every fragment of her being, she fought even harder. Every step she’s taken since my death has been a battle, and hell, she’s fought beautifully.
Looking at her in the eyes today filled a hole in my heart I didn’t even realize existed. I needed that moment as much as she did.
Revealing myself to her was my choice. Was it the right one, objectively speaking? Maybe not.
But did it feel right? Absolutely.
I take a deep breath—probably the deepest breath I’ve ever taken—and walk across the bridge to the golden front entrance of the headquarters. Noticing the pale yellow clouds floating on either side of the path, I pass through the gate and ascend a marble staircase that leads to the bridge ahead. The clouds give off an illusion of privacy along the route—I can’t see beyond them on either side, but I’m well aware that if I step off the path, I won't land on solid ground.
Once I reach the double-doored entrance, I gulp another breath of air and stride through the opulent, tall doors with my head held high, walking through the grand hall to the main foyer.
The foyer, located centrally in the headquarters, is surrounded by several grand birchwood staircases, leading to training rooms, classrooms, the library, and more on upper levels. While staying here, I spent most of my time in the training rooms, classrooms, and my quaint living haven back across the bridge in the living quarters.
I’d rather be caught dead—the irony—than spend time at the library willingly.
No offense. You do your thing.
A sea of winged angels flows through the palace around me as I reach the center staircase leading to the throne room, a few floors up. Just as I’m about to take my first step onto the stairs, I’m pulled sharply from behind. I grimace.What now?
You know, Matt always liked yanking me around during my training sessions with him. Maybe he’s here to watch my ascension. Well, he’ll be sorely disappointed when he learns what I’ve done.
I spin around with a smirk plastered on my face, glancing up to greet my mentor, only to see… no one. I mean, no one near me, that is. I see a lot of angels, both winged and not, passing through, but my perpetrator is nowhere in sight. It’s as if they evaporated into thin air. I lift my eyes to the upper floors surrounding me in case Matt took flight and I somehow missed him when, in an instant, someone yanks meagain, and okay, yeah, I have to say, this is getting old. This time, they pull me downward by the collar of my shirt.
Oh.That’s why I missed her. I expected to see Matt, who’s roughly the same height as I am, but instead, my assailant is at least a foot shorter than I am.
She whispers sternly, “Follow me.”
The first thing I notice is her deep navy blue wings tucked tightly against her back, detailed with a handful of black and silver feathers.
Deciding it’s best not to question her, I follow her down a wide hallway to the left of the foyer I haven’t ventured in before.
Shortly after my kidnapping, we reach a tiny room at the end of the hall. Upon entering, she doesn't bother to turn on the lights, and then hastily locks the door behind her and walks past me, keeping her back toward me. She’s breathing hard.
Logically speaking, a woman just locked me inside a dark room.
I should be unnerved. But I’m not.
“It’s good seeing you again.” I toss her a crooked smile in the dark, hoping she can still see my expression. “Mind telling me why we’re here? Should I be whispering right now?”
She scoffs, and although I can barely see her, I know she’s shaking her head.
Oh, she’snothappy with me.
“You’re going to be the death of me,” she mutters, stepping farther away into the dark, nearing a small desk.
I take a step toward her. She doesn’t step away—I like that. I like that she isn’t backing away.
“I hate to bethatguy, but you’re already technically dead, so…” She lets out an exasperated groan. “I mean, we both are. The only difference is one of us has flashy wings and the other was about to get a wicked set of his own before he was sorudelyinterrupted.”
She whips around and stalks close to me, our faces mere inches away from each other now. “Would you please be serious for once in your damn afterlife?” she hisses. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”
