“Traffic.” Ava kissed her cheek. “Where do you want us?”
“Back table. Derek and Emma are already here. Mia too.”
Victor followed her through the familiar space. Six months of Sunday dinners, and her parents still watched him carefully. But they’d stopped flinching when he entered.
Derek waved from the corner booth. Emma was showing him something on her phone. Mia stole dumplings from the appetizer plate.
Ava watched her for a moment. Six months ago, she hadn’t been sure she’d ever see Mia at this table again.
She still remembered the night it turned. Three weeks after the penthouse conversation, Ava’s buzzer had sounded at eleven p.m. Mia stood on the stoop in sweats, holding a paper bag from the Thai place they used to order from in college.
“I’m still furious with you,” Mia had said from the doorway. “But it turns out I can’t do furious from across town. It’s exhausting and I keep wanting to text you about things and then remembering I’m not speaking to you, which makes me more furious.”
“So you brought pad see ew.”
“I brought pad see ew because I’m hungry and you owe me approximately a lifetime of meals for the emotional damage.” Mia had pushed past her into the apartment, set the bag on the counter, and turned around with red-rimmed eyes. “You don’t get to die on me. Not even fake-die. Not ever. That’s the rule.”
“That’s the rule,” Ava had agreed.
They’d eaten noodles on the kitchen floor and Mia had asked hard questions and Ava had answered every single one. It wasn’t forgiveness. It was something more like a decision—Mia choosing to stay angry and stay close at the same time, and slowly, over weeks and months, letting the angry part shrink until what remained was just this: Mia stealing dumplings at a family dinner, like she’d always belonged there.
“Before I forget.” Derek slid an envelope across the table as Ava sat down. “Grimm asked me to deliver this. Said you’d want it before dinner.”
Ava opened it. Firm letterhead. Three lines of text.
Re: Andromalius Debt (Morningstar/Feng)
Status: PARTIALLY REMEDIATED
Original obligation: 50 years combined service. Credited: 30 years via Lilith Ashwood, Court of Remediation billing. Remaining obligation: 20 years, converted to consultative capacity at Andromalius’s discretion.
Victor read it over her shoulder. His hand found hers under the table.
“How?” Ava asked. “How does Remediation billing cover any of our debt?”
“When a demon is sentenced to Remediation, their accrued service credits get redistributed to outstanding obligations bearing their name,” Victor said quietly. “Lilith’s vendetta created the Peterson Holdings contracts that generated our debt to Andromalius. Marchosias ruled her responsible. So her accumulated credit—every favor owed, every service rendered—got reassigned to offset what she caused.”
“But not all of it,” Ava said.
“Her credits weren’t enough to cover the full term. Thirty years. That still leaves twenty, though the conversion to consultative capacity is significant. It means occasional assignments, not indentured service.”
“She’s going to be furious when she finds out,” Derek said, grinning.
“Good.” Ava folded the letter carefully and tucked it into her bag. Twenty years was still a long time. It wasn’t freedom—not completely. But it was the difference between a life consumed by obligation and a life that happened to include one. Lilith had spent fifteen years building a trap, and in the end, the heaviest part of it had landed back on her.
“Now.” Derek was grinning. “The actual good news. Emma sold her book. Three-book deal.”
“That’s amazing!” Ava grabbed Emma’s hands. “When?”
“Friday. I wanted to tell you in person.” Emma’s face was lit up. “Also, we’re engaged.”
She held up her hand. A small diamond caught the light.
“He proposed in Central Park,” Emma said. “Very romantic. He cried.”
“I did not cry.”
“He absolutely cried.”
