Most of the townsfolk were gathered on the courthouse steps, ready to witness the aftermath of justice served or, if necessary, protest its violation. She thought she saw Hypatia and Zeke in the crowd, and she ducked her head, blending in before they could spot her. She could not face her friends with the blood that stained her hands. She had stolen Zeke’s trike, his most prized possession, the thing he’d poured his heart and soul into, and abandoned it on the mountain. She had not even thought of retrieving it until just now. And there were no words for what she had done to Hypatia. She wondered if Hypatia even knew what had happened to Lilitha or if she thought her love had just run off. And what would she think when she found out the woman she loved was a murderer? Would she believe it? Would it break her heart?

Celeste looked up to find the statue of the archangel Michael looming above her, and she shuddered.

This time, the deputy guarding the door did stop her, and she explained in a low voice who she was and why she was there. His eyes widened, but he let her through with little fuss. She was, after all, expected.

Inside, the chaos lessened. Here were mostly Virtues in their white robes and porcelain masks and, cordoned off to the side, the laypeople—reporters and law clerks—who would be waiting to hear the verdict and relay it to the people outside. She looked for Grace Walter, holding out some foolish hope that the reporter would be there in her smart suit waiting to get the scuttlebutt, but she was not. Celeste did see Mrs. Alameda in her funeral black, a handkerchief clutched in her gloved hands.

An Order of Michael pointed her toward the elevator at the far end of the lobby, where a Virtue, indistinguishable from any other, motioned her to join him. It could only be Ibrahim. He excused himself from his compatriots and came to greet her.

“Miss Semyaza.”

“Virtue Ibrahim.”

“I received some interesting news from Sheriff Ybarra earlier,” he said, voice pitched low for privacy. “It seems congratulations are in order.”

“There is still a murder and still a Fallen woman facing a death sentence,” she said. “I would think you would be more circumspect.”

“I only meant you have successfully brought forth another credible suspect, which can only bode well for your sister’s fate. The court will have the ultimate say, of course, but I cannot imagine your questioning will not be persuasive.”

“There is something else you need to know.” She told him of her encounter with Tabor and the man’s demise.

She could not see his expression, but she was sure he was smiling. “We are already aware of it. I dare to say his death eases several problems the Orders were having with his outlaw behavior. We all agree his passing was God’s will.”