It took an impossibly long time for my lips to move. “No…it wasn’t that. It wasn’t like that at all. That’s not why he did it….” I couldn’t finish and suddenly questioned my words. Wasn’t that—by which I meant, me—exactly the reason he’d left her? Maybe our beach interlude hadn’t been the direct cause, but I had certainly been the catalyst.

The magazine lay on my desk, open to the guilty page. She picked it up, studying it with a calculating look. “So what then? You were just comforting him after the fact?”

“Actually…well, actually, yeah. That shot was taken afterward.”

It still sounded lame, and we both knew it. She threw the magazine down, and finally, the emotion came to her face. “What, and that makes it okay?” she cried. “You—one of my best friends—running off with my fiancé the day after he dumps me?”

“It wasn’t like that,” I repeated. “I went to find him…to see if he was okay.”

“And then you made sure he was okay?” she demanded. Her words were sarcastic, but tears glittered in her eyes.

“No…I didn’t expect anything like that to happen. And really, nothing much did happen. The thing is…” I took a deep breath. “We used to date. Before you guys were together. We never told anyone. Things ended…well, pretty much just before you started going out.” Like, almost the day before.

That caught her off guard. Her eyes went wide. “What? You had a past…you went out with my boyfriend and never told me? He never told me?”

“We thought it’d be easier.”

“Easier? Easier?” She pointed at the magazine again. “You think seeing you guys back together in full color was easier?”

“We aren’t back together,” I said quickly. “He didn’t end things because he was cheating—” Again, I had to admit the truth to myself. He hadn’t been cheating on her when he broke the engagement, but we’d slept together earlier in the relationship. “I was as surprised as you were. And I was worried. I told you, I went to find him, but we didn’t sleep together. Then I left. That’s it.”

The tears were on her cheeks now. “It wouldn’t have mattered if you had slept together. You guys keeping that past from me—you guys lying is worse. I trusted you! I trusted both of you! How could you do this? What kind of person does this to their friend?”

A damned soul, I thought. But I didn’t say that. I didn’t say anything.

Maddie shot up from the desk, futilely trying to wipe away the tears that were still coming. “Doug warned me once, you know. He said there was this way you guys always looked at each other that made him wonder. I told him he was crazy. I told him he was imagining it—that it was impossible. That you guys would never do that to me.”

“Maddie, I’m sorry—”

She hurried to the door, pushing past me. “Not as sorry as I am for putting my trust in you. For putting my trust in both of you. I’m quitting. Right now. Don’t expect to see me again.” She jerked the door open. “I don’t know how you can live with yourself. You two deserve each other!”

The door slammed loudly, rattling my ears. I stayed where I was, staring blankly at the desk, unable to move. Unable to think or react or do anything useful. I don’t know how you can live with yourself. Me either.

“Boy, things are pretty screwed up for you.”

Carter materialized beside me, his angelic signature filling the room. Dressed as ratty as always—except for his hat—he strolled casually to the desk and picked up the magazine. “That’s a good shot of you, though.”

“Shut up,” I said. The agony I’d tried to keep locked up with Maddie began to burst out. “Just shut up! I can’t handle your commentary right now, okay? Not with everything else. Certainly not with this…” I sank to the floor, leaning against the door and raking my hands through my hair. When I looked up at Carter, I expected one of his laconic smiles, but his face was all seriousness.

“I wasn’t being sarcastic,” he said. “Things are screwed up.”

I suddenly wished I had a cigarette. “Yes. They certainly are. Erik’s dead, you know.”

“I know.”

I closed my eyes for a moment, allowing myself to feel the full grief over that. With so much going on, it didn’t seem like I’d really allowed any of these problems to have the full mourning they deserved. Someone, I realized, would have to do the proper things for Erik now. Did he have family somewhere? Dante of all people might know. Otherwise, I was willing to take on any funeral arrangements—no matter the cost or work. I owed Erik that much. I owed him so much more.

“It wasn’t a coincidence,” I said softly. “It couldn’t have been. Jerome says it was some revenge from the Oneroi’s master…but I don’t believe that. Erik had been trying to figure out my contract. Before he died…before he…” My voice caught as I recalled how I had been the one to take that last breath. “He told me there were two contracts. That it wasn’t mine that was the problem. I don’t know what that means.”

Carter still said nothing, but his eyes were fixed so intently on me that they might as well have been pinning me to the wall.

“But you know, don’t you?” I asked him. “You’ve always known. And Simone…” I frowned. “Before Jerome sent her away, he mentioned something about her knowing Niphon and ‘fucking up things even more.’ That’s a piece of all this too, isn’t it?”

Carter still remained silent. I gave a harsh laugh.

“But, of course, you can’t say anything. You can’t do anything. Hell’s always got its hands in mortal affairs—or even lesser immortal affairs—but you guys? Nothing. How can you be a force for good in this world? You don’t help bring it about! You just wait and hope it happens on its own.”

“Most of the good in this world happens without any of our help,” he said evasively.

“Oh good God. What a lovely answer from you. And you know what? I don’t believe there is any good in this world. All this time…ever since I sold my soul, I’ve been clinging to this idea that there is something pure and decent out there. That there was something to give me hope that even if I was a lost cause, at least there was something bright and good in the world. But there isn’t. If there was, Seth wouldn’t have fallen. Erik wouldn’t have died. Andrea Mortensen wouldn’t be dying.”

“Good can still exist when bad things happen, just as evil persists when good things happen.”

“What good comes from Andrea dying? What good comes from leaving five little girls alone and motherless in the world?” I was choking on my own sobs. “If you—if any of you—could really affect the world, you wouldn’t let that happen.”

“I can’t change fate. I’m not God.” He was still so fucking calm that I wanted to punch him. Yet, what could I expect? Jerome had no attachment to humans, and at the end of the day, angels and demons weren’t so different.

I buried my face in my hands. “You can’t change anything. None of us can change anything. We’re resigned to our fates, just like Nyx showed.”

“Humans change their fates all the time. Even lesser immortals do. It starts small, but it happens.”

I was suddenly tired. So, so tired. I shouldn’t have come here today. I should never have left my bed. I no longer had the energy to argue with him or berate his frustratingly useless attitude.

“Can Seth change?” I asked at last. “Are good intentions enough to redeem a soul?”

“All things are possible. And I don’t mean that as a cliché,” he added, no doubt seeing the scowl on my face. “It’s true. Mortals and mortals-turned-immortals don’t always believe that—which is why Hell has such a foothold in the world. And I’m not saying that if you believe it, it will happen. Things don’t always turn out for the best, but miracles are real, Georgina. You’ve just got to lift yourself out of the muck to make them. You’ve got to take the chance.”

Yes, I was definitely getting a cigarette after this. Carter probably had one on him. I gave him as much of a smile as I could muster. “Easy for you to say. Can you make miracles?”