“Oh, man. That’s awful,” I whispered, wondering if it had been worth it.

Paul was unperturbed. “Everyone dies eventually. His music will touch people,” he said. “Get them to think. If you ask me, his guardian angel is probably screaming in his ear right now, trying to get him to hear her. Ace never becomes a saint, but his life will have meaning. At least, I think so.”

“I suppose,” I said, still not comfortable with it. Maybe I should have let Nakita kill him. End it cleanly. Were unfinished souls given a second chance? Another go-round? Was that why light reapers took them early? “Were you the one who gave Shoe my home phone number?” I asked suddenly.

Paul put a hand on my window frame as if to leave. “He wanted to tell you he was okay. I didn’t think you’d mind, and since I don’t have your cell phone number, I looked up your home number. I didn’t mess with him, if that’s what you’re worried about. Ron is pissed.” Paul smirked, his gaze leaving mine as he remembered. “The guardian angel I gave Ace won’t let anyone tamper with his or Shoe’s memories. That’s why he did the far search on them.”

Another worry was put to rest, and when Paul went to step out, I blurted, “Thank you for stopping Ace.” Head cocked, he smiled to show his teeth. “You’re welcome.”

From downstairs, my dad shouted for me, and I shifted from foot to foot. “I gotta go,” I said, tossing my head to the shower steaming behind me.

“Me too,” he said, stepping over my windowsill and onto the roof.

“Do you like Ron?” I asked suddenly, and he hesitated, searching the corners of my room with his gaze.

“I don’t know,” he said softly. “He teaches me stuff, but it’s like he’s fanatic about you.” His eyes found mine, and I nodded. “He lied to me. A lot. I made him look bad in front of a seraph. You going to keep believing everything he says?”

Paul didn’t answer, ducking his head and smiling. “See you later,” he said, and then the shadows from the tree branches shifting on him seemed to erase him bit by bit until he was gone.

I stood for a moment to be sure he had left. “I have got to learn how to do that,” I whispered, then went to take my shower.

Ace becomes a musician, eh? I thought, smiling as I imagined how it must rankle Ron that I—a dark timekeeper—had shown the lost a new choice, and that that choice had been made because of our efforts, saving not only his soul, but his life.

Had it all been fate? Or sweet reaper justice?

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