I was next to him now, holding out my tablet. I had already scrolled to the bottom; all he had to do was click and sign. I could feel Cal’s and KQ’s deals coming to a crescendo the way you can feel a wave swell while standing in the ocean. The energy between us pulled and tightened. Despite what I wanted to think, we worked well together.

Jake was silent until he let out one sob, rough and broken like wood after a storm.

“I’m not a bad person,” he said again as he took the tablet.

There was the crackle of a megaphone; the negotiator had finally arrived. Then I snapped my fingers and the whole thing disappeared.

—

“SAY WHAT YOU WANT about humans, but they certainly got this right,” KQ said, shoving another mozzarella stick into the marinara sauce. We’d found a dive in town with blistered red booths and a deal on pitchers. Cal chugged her second glass of water and gestured to the waitress for another.

“To Pey, for leading a successful Grand Slam!”

“We did good work,” I said, smiling despite myself and clinking my beer with hers. Our greasy fingers left smudges on our glasses.

“Did the guy give you any trouble?” KQ asked, as she licked sauce from her thumb.

I shrugged. “Not nearly as much as he could have.”

“He’ll fit right in Downstairs,” Cal said. “Whenever he gets there.”

“Which should be in just about . . . forty-five minutes.”

“Bus?” KQ asked.

“Failed brakes,” I said. “He should’ve paid more attention to that warning light.”

KQ laughed, an unadulterated cackle that startled the couple in the booth across from us.

Cal squinted at KQ and me. “What are you talking about?”

“They aren’t supposed to read the fine print, Squeaks. But you are,” KQ said, a mozzarella stick between her teeth.

“There’s never any guarantee that Rewinds will go the way they did the first time around,” I said. “No matter how bad a day might seem, you take a risk that you’ll get something even worse.”

“Like getting hit by a bus,” KQ said.

“Or driving with faulty brakes,” I answered.

The waitress dropped off another water at the table for Cal. I took a sip of beer, reveling in the combination of salt and fat and bubbles. Everything is flat in Hell. Cal finished the water in seconds.

“What’s up with all the hydration?” I asked. “You know we have water in Hell, right?”

Cal wiped her mouth, looking embarrassed. “It’s just better here.”

“I’ve gotta pinch one out,” KQ said, slamming down her empty glass. “Be ready to go when I get back.”

“Can I ask you a question?” I asked Cal once KQ was gone. “Why pick the kids’ dad over Jake’s mom? That was the hardest one.”

“Hard how?”