
I was given the name Paris at birth.
So far, I’ve lived up to it; or rather, down to it.
Too pretty, too unfocused, too easy a target.
My father even tried to sacrifice me.
And then I was saved by a beautiful, haunted man.
Mac is a reaper; he delivers lost souls.
But when he came for mine, I wouldn’t let go.
And now I can hear other souls too.
I can help him. Love him, if he’ll let me.
Assuming we survive a conspiracy to bring Chaos through the veil.
Mac says souls get what they deserve.
If I do enough good, then maybe I can be worthy of...
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