“Let's move to the kitchen,” Dustin suggested.
She looked at him for a few seconds and then she stepped aside.
Together, they went into the kitchen. Cathy didn't offer coffee this time. She leaned back against the counter, crossed her arms, and waited.
Dustin sat. Greg took the chair beside him and put the clipboard face-down in his lap. He didn't want to see the blank page again. He didn't want his expression to betray him.
“It's done,” Dustin said. “The deal is broken.”
Cathy didn't move, but her breath caught. “How?”
“I had a nice chat with the demon.”
Cathy's hand found the counter behind her. “You talked to him?”
“Yeah. He agreed to void the contract.”
The clock ticked. Greg stared at the floor. Beige linoleum. There was nothing to count.
“He just agreed?” Cathy asked in disbelief.
“Sure did.”
“I don't understand.”
Greg kept his eyes on the linoleum.
“I gave him a good reason,” Dustin said. “I told him I didn't want the protection. That I wanted to be mortal. That I had things I needed to be alive for.” He paused. “I think he liked that.”
None of it was a lie. Every word was true. Dustin had said those things, the demon had responded to them, the contract was voided. There was just a piece in the middle that Dustin had left out, and because nobody had asked Greg directly, the omission sat in the room untouched.
Greg touched it, though. He felt the shape of it in his lap where the clipboard was.
Cathy unfolded her arms. Slowly. “What about my soul?” she asked quietly.
“It's yours,” Dustin finished.
Something moved across Cathy's face. For a breath, Greg wondered if she was going to cry, but the moment passed.
“I also pulled out of Devil's Needle,” Dustin said.
Cathy's eyes sharpened. “What?”
Dustin shrugged as if it was no big deal. “Like I said, I have things I need to be alive for.”
Cathy's face crumpled.
She pressed a hand over her mouth and turned toward the counter. Her shoulders shook.
Greg should not be watching. He directed his gaze back at the linoleum but he could still hear Cathy's ragged breathing, a sign of her struggle for composure.
Dustin's chair scraped as he moved across the kitchen.
“I'm sorry,” Dustin said. “I'm sorry I scared you. I'm sorry I've been —”
“Don't.” Cathy's voice was muffled. “Don't apologize. Just stay.”
“I will,” Dustin promised.
