“A soul in dire need of divine intervention,” I said solemnly. “This man should never have ended up in Hell, and I would⁠—”

“Good grief!” Pete scoffed. “You’ve b-brought a soul from the underworld, here to H-heaven? What the blazes were y-you thinking?”

I inhaled for calm, drawing myself up to my full height. “I was thinking that if any of you care a jot about restoring a balance between Heaven and Hell, you’ll start by fixing the wrong my father did this man. His wife died on the same day as him. I believe she will be here.” I cleared my suddenly lumpy throat. “I would like you to reunite them.”

Pete stared at me over his spectacles. Eventually he gave a curt nod, hopping around his desk and placing his hands on Mr Bliss’s temples. The air around us hummed. Pete’s eyes widened, his brows lifting high on his weathered forehead.

He pulled back, his lips in a tight line. Turning to the trio of arch-morons, he snapped, without the slightest hint of a stutter, “Mike, take him to level twelve. Make sure the lower angels take good care of him. And tell them to have space prepared in Elsie Bliss’s abode.”

Mike blanched. “But⁠—”

Pete’s expression turned from grumpy old man to terrifying eternal being so fast, I was surprised Mike didn’t soil himself. “You will do this thing!” he snarled.

Mike, who did look a little like he might need a change of underwear, glanced warily at me. “Do you think that it’s … time?” he whispered.

“Time?” I raised an eyebrow, stepping back when Mike made to take Mr Bliss from my arms. “Time for what?”

“Time for change around here,” Pete answered matter of factly. “I’ll admit, when you first showed up earlier today, I was … less than impressed. But this,” he gestured to Mr Bliss, still cradled in my arms, “is proof that you have what it takes.”

“To what?” I breathed, my chest squeezing.

Pete leaned closer, gesturing me to do the same. “To end Her tyranny,” he whispered. Clearing his throat, he straightened. “Mike, take Robert here to level twelve. Gabe, gather all the off-duty angels and cherubs. She won’t go down without a fight.”

“Wait. A fight?” I stepped backwards, still clutching Mr Bliss to my chest. “I did not come here to fight.”

Take what is yours. By force, if necessary, a small but vehement voice in the back of my mind insisted.

Pete narrowed his eyes. “I think you did. And I think you’re ready for it.” He flicked his gaze to the waiting archangels. “Raphe, you can escort Simeon up to Her.”

Shocked by the speed at which things were moving, I numbly relinquished Mr Bliss to the unexpectedly gentle arms of Mike. “Take care of him. He’s very important to my …” I cleared my throat again. “To the person who is most important to me.”