Page 45 of Against All Odds

The defense rested on the tip of my tongue. That’s on them for not using their brains. These people would rather trust a stranger’s blue eyes than work for their money; is that my fault? I was just doing what I needed to survive.

And yet, something stopped me. It was the look in Raya’s eyes, the betrayal at my harsh words. You do look down on me. You think of me as no better than your victims.

“What’s done is done,” I muttered, barely audible. “I cannot undo my past.”

“Well, you certainly did not contribute to making the world a better place. Now is your chance to set that right.” He paused, seemingly unbothered by my glare – unlike most. “Unless you would prefer to give up? I can arrange your departure to the lower realm; you need only ask.”

My glare turned scorching. He looked back at me, unblinking, before I finally lowered my head.

Would Hell be easier? It was tempting to think so, but not when every flame brought me back to the worst day of my life, the moment that broke me into a million pieces time failed to glue back together.

“I don’t know,” I whispered, barely audible. “I don’t know what to do.”

I squeezed my eyes shut, allowing a single tear to flow down my cheek. What the fuck had this girl done to me that put me on the edge of tears so easily? It scared me more than the violence she inspired in me.

When I glanced back up, Jurrian’s stern expression had softened slightly. As he sank down, the clouds around him manifested into a gray-cushioned sofa that looked ridiculously comfortable.

“Are you open to telling me what’s the matter with your assignment?” He patted the space beside him, causing the clouds to shape into an additional part of the sofa.

After a brief hesitation, I sat down beside him – though slightly slower and more cautiously than he had.

“She’s just not making progress.” I clenched my fists, struggling to control the helplessness that boiled up in me again. “I’ve tried everything. I’ve bro—I mean, I’ve done everything within the rules to try and push her toward healthier choices. Helped her with her money issues. Kept bad influences away from her, pushed her luck as much as I could without raising suspicion, and she just keeps falling back into bad choices. Tonight, she…” I struggled to swallow the lump that tightened my throat.

“She could’ve been killed.” The words came out as a whisper. “She was out there doing ketamine with random men who didn’t even try to hide their intentions with her. How do I protect her from herself when she doesn’t want to be saved?”

For a few moments, only my sniffing interrupted the silence.

When I turned to look at Jurrian, a thoughtful frown had replaced his scowl. Putting his hand to his chin, he zoned out into the distance.

“And you’re worried you won’t get into the higher realm if you can’t save her,” he said slowly, “or because her suffering pains you?”

I opened my mouth and closed it, suddenly unsure which answer would be the right one. Somehow, both seemed wrong.

“I just don’t like being helpless,” I muttered. It was as close to the truth as I could get without dooming myself.

Jurrian hummed in understanding. He stayed silent for a while, and just when I wondered if he would still answer, he spoke again. “There’s another pitfall to being a guardian I’m not supposed to share with you.” When he turned to face me, his earnest expression startled me. “It’s common for a guardian to fail their assignment because they don’t care enough. On the outside, it looks like they want what’s best for their assigned, but they are really only trying to save their own soul – and their actions reflect this, through recklessness and rush. Fabian was an unfortunate example of this.” His face twisted into a frown, and when his dark eyes pierced into mine, he looked more worried than I had ever seen him. Once again, the uncomfortable feeling that he knew more than he let on crept up on me. “Less common is the guardian who fails because they care too much.”

I stayed silent for a beat, realizing I needed to choose my next words carefully. “I’m afraid I’m not following.”

“When a guardian becomes too invested in their assigned, the desire to help them is rooted in a desire to be close to them – for egoistical reasons.” He turned his head to gaze ahead, his chin resting in his hands. “To feel acknowledged, valued, needed. Unfortunately, it is easy to grow attached to your assignment: they are your only connection to the mortal world. You spend a large chunk of time watching them, knowing their intimate secrets, even though they cannot see you. If that is the case, succeeding at the assignment becomes impossible, as your actions can no longer be rooted in a genuine, selfless desire – and as I said, the assignment is all about learning to give without expecting anything in return.” He sighed. “Unfortunately, we have seen cases where guardians were convinced they had won the assignment… only to find the scale still tipped the wrong way, because they had been doing what’s best for them, not their assigned.”

“So if you care too little, you lose – and if you care too much, you also lose.” I scoffed, ignoring how my stomach turned. “I’m starting to feel like I can’t win.”

To my discomfort, Jurrian didn’t object to that. “The guardian experiment faces many valid criticisms,” he said slowly, choosing his words carefully. “This is one of them.”

I frowned. “Experiment?”

He sighed, rubbing his face – suddenly, he seemed ten years older. “In recent years, the percentage of gray and black souls has grown at an alarming rate. As a result, the balance has shifted… too strongly toward the lower realm. A bit of fluctuation is natural, but too much of it risks damaging the natural order of things.” He paused for a beat too long. Displeasure crossed his face, though I couldn’t tell at what. “In an attempt to reset the balance, the Celestial Court has come up with the guardian arrangement.” He grimaced. “I suppose they intended to cause a ripple effect in the collective: introduce luck into the lives of the unfortunate, hoping they would pay it forward by spreading love and kindness to others. I suspect they, like you and me, face pressure from above. Unfortunately, I am afraid they have overestimated how easy a fix this experiment would be.”

I let his words sink in during the silence that fell. I expected to feel smug satisfaction now that he finally agreed with me on something, but instead, the looming dread that had been marinating in my stomach only grew.

I took a deep breath. “You keep saying you’re not supposed to tell me stuff, and yet, you keep sharing things you shouldn’t.”

Jurrian didn’t answer, but now it was my turn to question him – and I wasn’t giving up.

I turned my head, forcing him to meet my gaze. “Why?”

He inhaled sharply, his hands tightening into fists. “If I tell you this, there’s no going back.”