It's a Wonderful Death - Sarah J. Schmitt Page 0,74

enough. Understand?”

I nod my head, wishing Azrael would turn into his less disgusting form. Having the eyes of every soul on Earth looking at me isn’t something I could ever want to get used to. “Yes,” I say but have to choke out the word.

“Good,” Azrael snarls. “The Afterlife is in chaos thanks to you. The Lobby, which is normally the quietest place around, is abuzz with stories of your refusal to accept your end. Of course, none of them mention the role the Grim Reaper played. No, they only talk about how you didn’t want to go quietly into the light. The sooner you’re gone, the sooner this world can get back to normal.”

No wonder most of the people in charge around here hate me. I had no idea how much trouble wanting to set things right might cause. I start to apologize when Death Himself puts his hand over my mouth. He moves me out of the way, placing his body between mine and Azrael.

“I will see that she is on the next available train to the mortal realm,” he assures Azrael. “Yeats will escort her on the return journey. When he returns, I will notify you.”

“And Hazel?” Azrael asks.

Death Himself shakes his head. “Hazel is no longer on the Guardian path. She has taken a position more suited to her particular skill set.”

“Meaning?”

“She is now ferrying the souls of the newborns to their new lives on Earth.”

Azrael gives a quick nod of approval. “She will do well there. Is there anything else we need to discuss regarding this matter?”

“I do not believe so.”

“Wonderful. I trust you and Marmaroth will be able to coordinate the reentry without any further issues.”

Death Himself bows. “Of course.”

I’m ushered out quickly and Death Himself closes the door firmly behind him. “Do you ever think that staying quiet would be the best thing for you?”

“I know. I’m sorry,” I say. And I really am. “It’s just that I don’t want to forget. I don’t want to be the girl I was before. That mean girl who didn’t care about anyone other than herself. I want to be good. Like Madeline.”

Death Himself throws back his head and howls in laughter. I cross my arms over my chest. “What’s so funny?”

“My dear girl, you will never be like Madeline.”

“Hey,” I say, defensively. “I could be.”

“No chance,” he says. “She is a special soul, sent to change the world through her death. Even if you really wanted to, and I have a sneaking suspicion you don’t, you could never be like her. From what I can tell, you are meant to change the world through your life, but the gentleness that she possesses, the part of her that has not become blackened by greed or lust or any of the other deadly sins, is already out of your reach.”

“Thanks,” I say, not even trying to hide my hurt feelings. Seems like no matter what, I’m doomed.

Death Himself rolls his eyes. “I forget how sensitive humans are. I wasn’t trying to make you feel bad. But it’s a fact. Your contribution to the human race comes from the things you will experience. You have to get knocked down from time to time so you can serve as a living testament that you can always, no matter what, get back up and soldier on.”

“So, I’m already damaged goods?”

Death Himself nods. “Pretty much. I could send you all the way back to your birth, but it wouldn’t matter. The life journey path you are on and the one Madeline has completed are different. They always have been. Just be glad your journeys ran together for a while. In all honesty, she’s a huge part of why the Tribunal listened to your appeal in the first place.”

“What do you mean?”

He shrugs. “I probably shouldn’t say anything, but since you’ll forget about this by the time you wake up, what the heck. You know that little party you and your friends threw during the first timeline? The one paid for with the money raised to help Madeline’s family out?”

I groan. “How could I forget? I still can’t believe I did that.”

“Well, lucky for you, you didn’t. Not the second time at least. In the first timeline, after the party, when Madeline found out what you and your friends did, her heart was broken. Not for herself, of course, but for her parents. She couldn’t believe people would pretend to care about her, about her family, and then steal from them. She