It's a Wonderful Death - Sarah J. Schmitt Page 0,68

garden my grandmother had behind her house. It’s not enough to make me relax, but my head is clearer. “After Zachriel does his thing to my head and gives his report, is that when they vote?”

“Yes, but Azbaugh will make them deliberate before rendering their verdict. You can bet he’ll have prepared a pretty compelling argument to deny your request.”

“And there’s absolutely nothing I can do?”

He’s quiet for a minute and then answers, “Maybe one thing. You’ve won over the crowd, but their opinion doesn’t matter. It’s the three angels at the front of the room that count. You have to make them realize that you recognize the seriousness of the situation.”

“I can do that,” I say with a nod.

“And you have to convince them that you’ve learned from your experiences. Make them believe your life and those of the people you harmed have value to the world.”

I want to yell at him to stop lecturing me, but I can’t. I know he’s right. “If I can do that, everything should work out?” I could really use some reassurance right now.

“I can’t promise you that.”

Not exactly what I was looking for. “But we can hope, right?”

“Hope is a pretty powerful form of prayer,” Sal says, his hand on the doorknob.

Absently I say, “I don’t pray.”

He pauses before responding, “Maybe you should.”

Chapter 28

My return to the Hall is met with a sudden hush falling over the room. The three members of the Tribunal are standing together behind the dais, talking in voices that I can only describe as quieter than a butterfly’s wings. When they hear us, they return wordlessly to their places.

Azbaugh doesn’t even look at me. “Zachriel, you may begin.”

I expect for him to come over and touch my forehead or something, but he doesn’t. He just closes his eyes. And then I feel him. At first it starts like a subtle tingle, but the deeper he digs into my memories, the more it feels like tendrils carefully picking over every inch of my brain. I shudder, trying to pull back, but I feel a hand on my shoulder. I glance up to see Yeats standing next to me.

I don’t remember seeing him when I came back into the room, but I’m glad he’s here. His touch soothes me and I manage to stay calm through the rest of Zachriel’s investigation. When my mind feels like my own again, Yeats moves away. Taking a deep breath, I look to Sal for reassurance.

“You did good,” he says. “Not many people can go through such a thorough review without screaming. You didn’t even whimper.”

His approval does nothing to diminish the violation I feel. Since not all of my new memories have made their way to my consciousness, Zachriel probably knows more about me than I do. I look at him to find his eyes still shut. As though he senses me watching, they flutter open without warning.

Azbaugh looks at him carefully. “What say you, Brother?”

Zachriel is silent and still for a long time. When he speaks, his voice is flat, like he’s in a trance. “I have reviewed the memories of Rowena Joy Jones. I have seen her past and her present. I have filtered out her memories of the Afterlife, though it was difficult as some of them have become embedded in her subconscious. According to all that is seen, I can say without hesitation that the unseen of her future poses significant improvement over the last timeline. The quality of her life has already been greatly altered by her actions.” And with that, Zachriel stops talking and slumps in his seat.

I don’t know what the Tribunal wants to hear, but all of that sounds good for me. I turn to fist bump Sal, but his eyes are still on Zachriel. I follow his gaze.

Can angels die? Because Zachriel looks dead. I mean, really, really dead.

Azbaugh doesn’t seem concerned about Zachriel’s sudden change at all. He isn’t even looking at him. Instead, his gaze is boring into my soul and any happiness I feel about my success is quickly receding. He scrunches his face up until his eyebrows come together and a snarl skips across his lips. “My, my, aren’t you a surprise.”

I can’t believe it. He’s mad at me because I did what the Tribunal asked me to do? It’s not like I’m trying to undermine his authority. But that’s exactly what I’ve done. I glance at Sal who reminds me with his eyes to stay quiet. I fold