“It would be nice if any of this made sense.” I turn away from him, looking around me. The room is exactly the same as I remember it. High ceilings, soft overstuffed chairs, and an inlaid wood floor with a map of the constellations set into it. A few fat couches lounge in front of shelf upon shelf of the most exquisite books I’ve ever read. Xavier has a larger, more formal library on the first floor. This smaller one on the fifth floor, however, has always been my favorite. I would often choose a book, and then walk out onto the rooftop patio and read it in the sunshine, or under the moon by twinkle lights and lit wall sconces.
Nothing has changed. Xavier must have had some kind of service maintaining his residence; automatically paying the bills or something, because he was gone for months and it is still immaculate. “Do you want me to tell you the notes for the boatswain?” I ask Reed.
He nods, lifting the chain and boatswain from his neck. It catches the light and glimmers. I shiver, unable to shake the dread it elicits in me. I have no desire to be transported to the past—I’m afraid of what I’ll see and feel there. I don’t want to remember another moment with Emil. I also don’t want a gateway to Sheol to open up and drag me into it. The boatswain is bad news. I wouldn’t mind destroying it right now by squeezing it into a small paperweight.
“We can’t destroy it yet, love,” Reed says, as if reading my mind.
“It’s a really satisfying fantasy, though.”
“Yes, it is. I’ve indulged in it several times myself already.”
I hum the tune for him. He listens intently, and then flawlessly hums it back to me.
“That’s it,” I say breathlessly. I walk to the dormer window. My fingertips skim over the cool metal of Xavier’s telescope mounted on a tripod. The brass shines as if it were polished just yesterday. I lean over, draw my eye near the eyepiece, and close the other one. Before anything comes into focus, I already know what I’ll see. It’s a view of the water—Lake St. Clair in all its frozen splendor. Freighters with red and black hulls crash through the ice on their way to and from the Detroit River.
I straighten and glance over at Reed. He’s staring at a picture of Xavier and me. Xavier is kissing me under the mistletoe at Cole’s girlfriend, Kirsten’s, Winter Wonderland party. Reed lifts the framed photo and turns it over face down on the table. “Where are we?”
“Grosse Pointe. It’s next to Detroit. I lived a few miles that way,” I use my thumb to gesture over my shoulder. It’s like night and day, huh?” I ask. “The haves and the have nots, so close to one another and yet worlds away.”
“You went to the wealthier school?” Reed asks. “One in Grosse Pointe?”
“My test scores were off the charts. It turns out I have an angel brain.” I give him a doleful look. “My scores allowed me to be bused to this school district. It was a hard transition, though. My only friend was Molly for a long time. She was in the same situation as I. She had amazing scores as well—teachers used to ask us if it was in the water where we lived or something.”
“Was it?” Reed asks with a small smile.
“Umm, no. There was stuff in the water where I lived, but I think it was lead.”
“So you went to a nicer school.”
“I wouldn’t say it was ‘nicer’. Nicer implies kindness.”
“People weren’t kind.”
“Some were. Some thought we were trash being brought in—they felt we tainted the gene pool of their hallowed halls.”
“Who would think that?”
“You’d be surprised at how much money matters to some people. They claim it doesn’t, but the minute they find out you don’t have any, is the minute you become undesirable—a parasite.”
“Those aren’t people you want in your life anyway. It’s okay to let them weed themselves out early.”
“Where were you when I was growing up, Reed?”
“Waiting for you,” he replies, as if it is the only explanation. “So, you and Molly traversed the class line to come to this school district?”
“You could say that. We crossed the line between Detroit and Grosse Pointe for sure. We both had more intelligence than most kids, but not enough money to keep up with them.”
“And then you met Xavier?” Reed asks.
I nod. “He was in a lot of my classes. He transferred in from a school in Germany. His mom was from a wealthy family there, but they both spoke perfect English. She and his father were not together in the traditional sense, at least, that’s what he told me. They were still married, but they hadn’t lived together in years. It turns out that he really doesn’t even have parents, does he?”
“No, not the way you’re thinking. He was born of fire.”
“Rebecca, his fake mom here, wasn’t around much. She was always on her way somewhere, traveling. But I liked her when she was here. She was really kind to me.”
“Was she a Reaper?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. Maybe? It would fit her personality. I never even suspected that she could be anything other than human.”
“Are you sure?” he asks.
“Wait, what?”
“You may have suspected she was an angel. You may have even found out, but they wouldn’t allow you to know it for long.” Reed picks up the white knight from the marble chessboard, toying with it in his hand. “You remember Torun?”
“Yes,” I whisper.
“A lot of things there were completely destroyed by angels. Even in a blizzard, people saw what was happening in their city.”