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“Tragic is all I can think of when I remember Madi,” she said, her voice steady but thick with emotion.

“She was beautiful. Her art… it spoke volumes of her kind and gentle heart. The cards we’re dealt aren’t always fair.

But I think, looking back, she’d want us to know that it’s what we do with them that matters.

The one thing we can’t avoid in this life is death.

And I can only hope that wherever she is, she’s at peace now. Our beautiful girl.”

The silence that followed hung heavy. I swallowed, but the lump in my throat wouldn’t go away.

Grim didn’t move, didn’t even blink. His gaze was distant, fixed somewhere over my shoulder.

Expression unreadable as he absorbed everyone’s pain and, in some twisted way, it didn’t touch him.

He ferried her away, after all, but I didn’t blame him for that.

The blame was mine, and it was suffocating me.

The cold chill in the air, the low murmurs of people peddling stories from her youth— it was too much.

The smell of wet snow and death crawled in from outside, and all I could feel was the sharp burn of regret, clawing up my chest. I wasn’t just trapped in this building.

I was trapped in my own skin, carrying a guilt I could never outrun.

When we made it back to the car, thoughts of the life that girl could’ve lived clung to me like sticky webs.

“She died two days later, you know,” Grim broke the silence, his grip on the steering wheel tightening.

“Who did?” My voice was hollow.

“The elderly woman you saved. In the grocery store. She died two days later. Suffered the same fate she was supposed to in the store.”

A single tear traced the curve of my cheek, but instead of erasing its evidence, I savored the pain it caused. “Cursed” wasn’t nearly a strong enough word to describe me, or what I’d done.

Maybe I couldn’t blame the curse. Maybe it was just…

“I didn’t bring you here to hurt you...” Grim was gentle, but sometimes even kindness, when you were already bleeding, could cut the deepest.

“Then why?” My armor fell, my sword laid down. The fight drained out of me, leaving only truth. “Because I see it now. I know,” I spoke, my voice thin and shaking. “I understand why you hate me.”

I unbuckled my seatbelt, desperate to get away from the weight of his silence.

At the trunk, I tore through my bag with shaking hands, already knowing what I was after.

It had been years since I let myself light one—since I’d quit, since it had gone out of fashion—but the habit never truly left.

I always kept a pack tucked away, just in case. A contingency for moments such as this.

The lighter clicked, flaring to life in my unsteady grip. I brought the cigarette to my lips, hesitating. The smoke banded around me in the manner of armor. It was a relief.

The car door slammed, and I flinched as Grim rounded the car with fury in his eyes, his energy crackling in the air, mirroring his ever changing static. Taking a long drag, I exhaled the smoke slowly, watching it curl into the cold air.

“No.” His fingers tore the cigarette from my lips, tossing it to the ground and stomping it out. “You’re going to give yourself cancer.”

“Hah,” I snorted, the bitter laugh escaping before I could stop it. “I can’t die, Grim. I barely get sick. Maybe I’ll die faster. At least then, you’ll get what you want.”

His scoff was sharp as he started to rifle through my bags. “That is the opposite of what I want.” He pulled out the pack and lighter, crushing them between his fingers until it crumbled to dust—just like Brett’s phone.

“What the hell was that for?” I said, angry and confused.

“You gave up smoking twenty-seven years, five months, and three days ago. You really want to start again?”

“Seems fitting, don’t you think? Besides, what is this? An intervention? Because if so, I’d like to file a complaint about your stalking tendencies.”

“Get in the car, Astoria.” His voice dropped, the command slicing through the air.

I felt the heat rise to my cheeks, my skin flushing with a mix of rage and embarrassment.

The winds kicked up around us, bitter and cold, the sharp gusts cutting into me.

I’d spent my life carefully existing, avoiding getting too close to anything that could hurt once it was gone.

Until Ishani. And Piper. And even Sanjay.

It was my fault. My lapse in judgment when Piper had begged me to be their nanny, her hands wrapped around a cup of coffee, her eyes full of hope.

I had nothing left to lose. In truth, I hadn’t had anything to lose for a long time. None of them were ever really mine. But this... this entanglement with Death, this chaos was going to be my undoing.

Often fantasizing about my death, I imagined the moment my last breath would hover in the air above my lifeless body. Would it be slow, agonizing? Or fast and painless? Would Grim be there?

And why did this hurt so much? My heart cracked again at the memory of Piper’s last text before I’d thrown my phone into a trashcan: Where are you? We’re worried. We love you…

“Will she die too?” The question slipped out before I could stop it. Exhaustion drew closer.

“All humans do.” His answer was cold, detached, but it didn’t stop my heart from breaking.

“Will she die soon?” I raised my chin.

He hesitated, and I knew. I understood what he’d been trying to teach me all those years ago, when Bea had been stolen from my arms.

“I can show you...” Grim trailed off, his eyes flicking to the sky, now heavy with thick clouds, large white flakes drifting lazily down.

He exhaled sharply, slamming the trunk closed before opening my door.

Gesturing for me to get in, he muttered under his breath, “This is such a bad fucking idea.”

It had to be, I thought. If it made Death swear.