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love something until it’s gone.”
“That’s not fair,” I say as I tremble.
“No one said it would be. He tests you, Benji, and he tests Calliel for a
supremely simple reason. You are tested because if you aren’t, how could you know
what you believe in?”
I can’t do it. I can’t get into a philosophical debate with an archangel, knowing
how ridiculous it is and how unprepared I am. Not to mention I’m too angry to listen
to what his words actually mean. I go in a different direction. “You touched the
sheriff. Just like you touched Cal.”
“Yes.”
“Do you know what happened to my father?”
“Bits and pieces.”
“Tell me.”
He sighs. “Benji, how are you supposed to know love if the answers are given to
you?”
I hate his backward questions. “I know what love is,” I snarl at him. “No,” he says. “You know only grief now. There is a difference, though I don’t
expect you to understand what it is, at least not yet. You have all but buried yourself
in it, so how could you? How can you love if you don’t even know yourself
anymore?”
“That’s not fair,” I croak out.
“Do you love Calliel?” he asks.
I freeze, unable to answer, unable to process the question. Any part of it. “And yet he loves you,” Michael says. “I could see it the moment he opened the
door. Maybe because it was so unexpected, or because it was so bright, I don’t know.
But it almost knocked me flat.”
“He… he doesn’t… he can’t….”
“And you don’t see it,” Michael says, as if I’d agreed with him. “Because some
part of you is already grieving for him. You think him lost, and so you are burying
yourself in preparation.”
“You said… you said he would die.”
“Did I?” Michael asks, testing the porch step with his foot. “Not even I can know
