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Moira’s lips curled back from her sharp teeth. “I didn’t ask you, angel,” she snapped before descending into contemplative quiet.

I wasn’t entirely sure what Evander meant to teach me by showing me this, but my takeaway from the lesson so far was that Heaven kinda sucked. More than kinda. I’d never been to Hell but, judging by Moira’s defeated posture when we’d arrived, her new station was not an upgrade.

I traded my tears, everything I had, to the demoness, and she gave me her everything in return. Whitney and Loren were her most prized possessions, and she surrendered them… for this. Watching her face, guarded but twitching with flashes of genuine emotion, I felt her disappointment. Her loss.

I couldn’t explain why, but I felt compelled to say, “I’m sorry.”

She let her arms drop, then dragged one across the barren desktop, clearing the dust that wasn’t there.

“I wished a better end for him,” she murmured.

“A better end than what?” I was a little afraid to ask. “What happens now?”

Moira’s gaze cut aside, down the endless aisle of filing cabinets. “He’ll be treated the same as any other damned soul,” she replied in a measured monotone. “Subjected to eternal torment. And you’ve left Lorenzo to the same fate.”

“I didn’tleavehim!” I exclaimed, flooding with heat that dissipated under the demoness’s withering stare. “He…” I paused. “He sent me away.”

Moira nodded. “Yet you choose to remain.”

“No!” I insisted while my insides warmed again. Turning, I consulted Evander, who dodged my eyes. He could hear me, though, so I repeated the plea he’d rejected upstairs. “I wanna go back.”

“Youmustremain,” Evander replied. “To be protected. Preserved.”

Moira made a grumbling sound. “It seems you’ve been caged after all, little bird.”

She was right. I’d been tricked, then trapped, in a combined effort between the man I loved and my self-proclaimed guardian angel. Two people I should have been able to trust, and who might have known better than I did. If this was what they knew, I wished they’d kept it to themselves.

On the other side of the desk, Moira slouched. The more I looked at her, the more I noticed her ragged edges. Her glossy hair was frizzed, and her eyes were ringed with shadows. The frigid bitch exterior was melting, leaving something sad and miserable in its wake.

I motioned to her, then asked Evander. “What is she even doing here? Just sitting? Languishing? Forever? What’s the fucking point?”

“The demon’s soul is tarnished,” he said. “Admittance to Heaven is not equivalent to redemption. She must earn her salvation.”

Moira scoffed. “And how shall I do that? Bound as I am.” She rolled the chair backward and raised one leg, showcasing the iron shackle and chain tethering her to the desk. She glowered at the angel as she muttered, “It seems very much like you want me to stay here.”

Evander crossed his arms. “I have no opinion on the matter.”

With both of them sulking, I was left in the middle, scowling and swinging my head from side to side.

“So, this is it?” I asked. “Anyone I purify just comes here to rot?”

The anger that had been driving me ran out of gas with a cough and a sputter, and slow, seeping sadness took its place. I chewed my lip, trying to think of some conclusion besides the one at which I finally arrived.

“I can’t… I can’t help at all, can I?” I asked. “Heaven or Hell, Loren’s trapped either way. They all are.”

Evander’s remorseful squint was no kind of argument, so I rounded on Moira. She had shrunk in her seat, and I lunged toward her, only held back by the clunky desk between us. “They deserved better than you. Than this,” I seethed, wishing my teeth were pointy like hers so I could look half as vicious. “You caused all of this. So, I take it back. I’m not sorry. I’m glad you’re miserable, and I hope youdorot, and I…” I grit my teeth to pen in the sob that tried to sneak out, then forced words past it in a rambling stream.

“I don’t wanna be preserved. I know I can’t help, but I need to be there. Lore gets scared sometimes, and I…” My fingers grasped at the air. “I don’t want him to die alone.”

Tears broke loose, and I blinked hard, letting them scatter because I didn’t want them anymore. If purifying Loren meant sending him here, then it wasn’t kindness at all. It was punishment, which was all I’d ever been to him. Punishment, pain, and broken promises.

“If I caused it,” Moira said haltingly, “perhaps I can fix it.”

Sniffling, I tried again to look intimidating or at least intact as I faced her. “Why would you?”

“Because they deserved better.”

It was the simplest answer and, when I searched her jewel-toned eyes, I found it to also be the truest one.