Halo, My Name Is . . . E-Book

Geanna Culbertson

• Herausgeber: Culbertson Kingdom
• Kategorie: Für Kinder und Jugendliche
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2024

Beschreibung

Dig Deep, Fly High

If you’re just tuning in to my  Guardian Angel adventure, here’s the ten-cent tour.

Everyone who goes to Heaven has a purpose, and a job. Not the kind with time clocks and tax returns—these are celestial jobs full of fun, wonder, and  afterlife awesomeness. Unless you’re a Guardian Angel like me. Then the career description also comes with the adjectives stressful, strenuous, and super-complex.

My name is Grace Reyes Cardiff and I’ve been assigned to protect Henry Sun, an incoming college freshman, and my friend. The powers that be say he needs a GA because he has the potential to  positively impact humankind in a big way. The problem, despite our friendship, this easygoing guy is turning difficult now that issues of control and free will are at stake. Factor in monster attacks across San Diego, and my  French and fabulous demon archenemy, and an angel barely has time for a personal afterlife. Which I need in order to learn to fly with  my new wings, master my latest powers, and go on my first date with a certain handsome sir in my angel training class. 

Yup, discovering the afterlife approach to  soulmates, near-death experiences, and the  boundaries of Heaven and Hellare going to be fighting for my attention this year as I undergo tests of character alongside tests in biology and chemistry. 

Too bad I have no alone time to study what with me harboring and trying to reform a  demon fugitive in Heaven . . .

Leseprobe

MORE BOOKS BY GEANNA CULBERTSON

The Crisanta Knight Series

Crisanta Knight: Protagonist Bound

Book One (2016)

Crisanta Knight: The Severance Game

Book Two (2016)

Crisanta Knight: Inherent Fate

Book Three (2017)

Crisanta Knight: The Liar, The Witch, & The Wormhole

Book Four (2018)

Crisanta Knight: To Death & Back

Book Five (2019)

Crisanta Knight: The Lost King

Book Six (2019)

Crisanta Knight: Into The Gray

Book Seven (2020)

Crisanta Knight: Midnight Law

Book Eight (2021)

Crisanta Knight: Eternity’s End

Book Nine (2022)

The Heaven’t You Heard? Series

Heaven’t You Heard?

Book One (2022)

Halo, My Name Is . . .

Book Two (2024)

More Books to Love

The Present

(2021)

You Can Only Imagine

(2025)

Hallowed

(2025)

www.CulbertsonKingdom.com and www.CrisantaKnight.com

Halo, My Name Is . . .

© 2024Geanna Culbertson. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means, print, electronic, mechanical, digital, photocopying, media adaptation, or recording, except for small excerpt inclusions in a review, without permission in writing from the publisher.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

Published in the United States (Compton, California) by Culbertson Kingdom—a publishing house otherwise known as Culbertson Kingdom, LLC

www.CulbertsonKingdom.com

www.CrisantaKnight.com

979-8-9907874-0-7 (paperback)

979-8-9907874-1-4 (ebook)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2024916278

Cover concept and design: Geanna Culbertson

Cover design: Ellis Dixon, www.ellisdixon.com

Book interior design: Claudine Mansour Design, www.claudinemansour.com

First editor: Pearlie Tan

Second editor: Olivia Swenson

Dedication

This book is dedicated to the greatest mom in this galaxy and any other. Mom, you’re my best friend, my mother koala, my reason for being able to accomplish my goals and work hard toward them every day. Thank you for making my world better in all ways.

Supreme Thanks to My Stellar Production Team

Pearlie Tan

Olivia Swenson

Ellis Dixon

Additional Thanks to Other Awesome Book Supporters

Gallien Culbertson

George Veliz

Veronica Reynosa

Christine Fine

Alexa Carter

Claudine Mansour

Girl Scouts of the USA, // TECHYSCOUTS, Jaret Cohen, Tristan Adlawan, Octavio Avila, Ireland Moore, Kristine Anassian, Claire Bretzke, Dan Gdowski, Hugh Loveless, Leonel Gamboa, David Roche, Juan Luis Reyes, Scott Lockwood, Jacquie Irvine, Aryana Williams, Grace Ip, Lilly Reynosa, Girls on the Run, Larity Rich, Jocelyn Salguero, and Bradley.

Bonus Dedication

This book is dedicated to Cita Charette, my aunt and godmother. The last time I saw her, and hugged her, was on April 12, 2022—the day Heaven’t You Heard? came out. This excited me in two ways at the time. First, since we live on opposite sides of the country, I had not seen her in quite a few years. Second, I usually try to do something special on the day of a book release, so the unusual twist of fate that brought me to Florida to visit her was awesome. At the time, I just didn’t know how special it would really be.

Within two months of that visit, Aunt Cita was diagnosed with advanced cancer. Within four months of that, despite putting up one heck of a fight, cancer took her away. She will always be missed, and I will always be grateful I got to hug her one last time.

It’s an interesting thing. My travel to Florida actually was very painful because of an injury I sustained while there. However, despite the consequences that lasted maybe half a year, I would 100% go through that every time if it meant spending that last evening with her. Love is stronger than pain, and when fate offers you an opportunity, even if it’s inconvenient or comes with other costs, you have to know when to be brave enough to take it.

Given all that, it was an obvious choice that I would dedicate the sequel to Heaven’t You Heard? to my Aunt Cita, who is an angel in Heaven somewhere out there, I’m sure.

And what better day to release this novel than on her birthday—October 15th!

Love you, Aunt Cita! I’ll think of you when I make spaghetti and meatballs, see smoked whitefish, or happen upon loose bricks.

Contents

Dedication

Bonus Dedication

Contents

Dear Reader

Chapter 1: My Fresh Start

Chapter 2: The Man Upstairs

Chapter 3: Awkward Living Arrangements

Chapter 4: Different Angles

Chapter 5: The Art of Not Pulling Punches

Chapter 6: Mishigas

Chapter 7: Bright Angel

Chapter 8: Tourist Trapped

Chapter 9: Two Disappointments for the Price of One Trip

Chapter 10: The Savior

Chapter 11: Four Down

Chapter 12: Outmatched

Chapter 13: My Rapunzel

Chapter 14: Bonding

Chapter 15: Higher Love

Chapter 16: Crisis of Fate

Chapter 17: Me and My Boys

Chapter 18: Clouded Judgment

Chapter 19: Moving In, Moving On

Chapter 20: It’s You!

Chapter 21: Closer

Chapter 22: From the Shadows

Chapter 23: Holy Mole!

Chapter 24: Transitioning

Chapter 25: Scary

Chapter 26: Muerto

Chapter 27: Dinosaurs & Ghostbusters

Chapter 28: The Maria Von Trapp Problem

Chapter 29: Who We Most Fear

Chapter 30: Holiday from Hell

Chapter 31: Stronger Together

Chapter 32: Battle Sh**

Chapter 33: The Onions in the Salsa

Chapter 34: Facing Your Demon

Chapter 35: FINAL

Chapter 36: Wreck

Chapter 37: Full Pocahontas

Chapter 38: Terms of Endearment

Chapter 39: Into the Fire

About the Author

Continue the Magic

Dear Reader

I am so excited to welcome you on this new journey.

The Heaven’t You Heard? guardian angels series will be filled with incredible world building, magical shenanigans, fantasy action, sassy dialogue, morally rich themes, and endearing, honorable characters that you can love, laugh, and grow with.

Just a note out the gate—though the subject matter has to do with guardian angels and the afterlife, please know that this is NOT a book about religion. The settings, premises, and so forth of this story are pure works of imagination intended to delight and inspire smiles and wonder. They are not intended to promote any finite view about the universe and spirituality, negate anyone’s beliefs, or make presumptions about what is and isn’t out there. Faith is entitled to exist uniquely in each of our hearts, and my only goal here is to bring a little extra joy to the hearts of my readers with creative and compelling fiction.

Now, without further ado, on to your next adventure!

Chapter 1: My Fresh Start

“Did it hurt, Grace?” Justin asked as our troop of four wandered the walkway that cut through the University of San Diego campus.

“Did what hurt?” I replied, glancing up from my freshman orientation pamphlet.

“When you fell from Heaven?”

Henry and I both halted. My friend’s cocoa eyes reflected the same fear and shock that I felt. Henry Sun was the only person on Earth who knew I was an actual Guardian Angel sent from Heaven to protect him.

How the heck did his best friend figure it out?!

“Geez, was it that bad?” Justin asked. His smile turned to a cringe as he wobbled on his crutches. “I’ve been testing pickup lines all day with different girls. I finally thought I had a winner.”

Henry relaxed his shoulders in relief. My heart returned to my rib cage from where it’d jumped in my throat. However our fourth teammate, Razel, smacked Justin’s arm.

“Justin, stop making all female-kind uncomfortable with your come-ons.” She shook her head indignantly. The motion caused some strands of her thick, black waves to stick to her face. It was warm for early June, and despite Razel’s visor and sunscreen the sweat was winning.

Conversely, her surf-tanned twin brother Henry looked perfectly comfortable in the blaring sun. He seemed comfortable in most situations, honestly—as amiable, laid-back, and easygoing as an eighteen-year-old boy could come. Even in the face of the truth regarding my role in his life that had been forced upon him a few months ago.

Most people would have a conniption if they learned the world was full of Guardian Angels counterbalancing demons trying to destroy the world by destroying those who would positively impact it. And most people would hide in a closet if they learned they were among the souls being targeted. Henry wasn’t most people. Hence why the feathered folks upstairs had assigned a Guardian Angel to protect him. He was supposed to impact Earth in some epic way someday. We didn’t know the specifics yet, but my celestial higher-ups had enough pieces of information on every soul to pinpoint who was extra important. Dead-folks-turned-Guardian-Angels like me helped our charges make their way to, and cross that mysterious finish line.

“Don’t listen to my sister,” Henry said encouragingly to his friend. “I’m sure at some point you’ll be able to talk to girls without inspiring terror or getting punched.”

“Wow, thanks for the pep talk.” Justin adjusted his crutches again. The poor guy had broken his foot just before graduation. We’d been walking slower than usual to accommodate him. At least it allowed ample time to appreciate the scenery.

We learned during our high school tour of this place that USD’s architecture was inspired by the sixteenth century Spanish Renaissance. The creamy European buildings were abundant in intricate molding, regal archways, and fancy columns. My friends seemed entranced by the grandeur. I thought it was lovely too, but was more absorbed by the basic beauty of being here.

I had died during my senior year of high school in a car crash with my mother. When I entered the afterlife I never thought I’d get a chance to live out all the things death stole from me, like going to college. Being at this place now felt like a miracle. Although Henry was the one supposed to be benefiting from my presence on Earth, every day I descended from Heaven to guard him I couldn’t help but wonder if I was getting the better deal.

“Are you sure you want to take the whole tour with us?” Henry asked his injured friend.

“You guys came to my UCSD freshman orientation yesterday. It’d be lame if I didn’t return the camaraderie. Anyway, I’m already here. What else would I—” Justin paused and sniffed the air. If this had been a cartoon, he would’ve floated off the ground and followed the smell like Spider-Ham following the scent of pie.

“Do you guys smell barbecue?” he asked.

I took a whiff and nodded in approval. “Good barbecue.” I scanned my brochure and then held up the page referring to on-campus eateries. “Apparently, USD has an outdoor smoker by the cafeteria. This college is ranked number two in the country for food.”

I saw the gears turning in Justin’s head. So did Razel.

“Go on,” she said. “The tour is only an hour. We’ll meet you in the cafeteria after.”

Justin hesitated, sniffed again, then nodded. “Okay, only because you insist. Have fun, you guys. And when you see Solange, tell her—”

“Tell me what?”

My alertness turned sharper than the spikes of Henry’s dark gelled hair.

“Speak of the Devil,” Razel exclaimed as she and my nemesis exchanged a hug. Solange went through the motions and hugged me next. It was what girls did, even the ones who wanted to obliterate each other.

“Close but not quite,” I whispered in Solange’s ear before she pulled away.

Malice flashed in her eyes, but her smile didn’t crack. Though she hated my Hell innuendos, maintaining a friendly front was crucial if Solange wanted to stay in our circle and have access to Henry, i.e. the boy she’d been tasked to wipe from the world one way or another.

No book or TV show had properly prepared me for a demon like Solange. Her steady temperament was comparable to that of a seasoned sea captain, unperturbed by what crashed around her. Her confident appearance was stronger still—best described as a twenty-second century Cleopatra crossed with Kerry Washington. While I looked like someone you could borrow school notes from or who you’d trust to watch your dog on weekends, Solange looked like someone who ruled a kingdom.

Not a problem. I had no qualms about dethroning her.

In fact, a week ago, I had.

Every time demons and angels were “killed” on Earth, our souls returned to our afterlife planes to reform. When Solange had manipulated a fire and earthquake at prom a week ago, she and I had gotten into a dead-girl on dead-girl fight to the death. Not to toot my own celestial horn—or be religiously kitschy—but my demon nemesis went down biblically hard. This was the first we’d seen of her since then.

“How was your trip home to Paris?” Razel asked, stifling her smile with respectful sobriety. “How is your aunt?”

“She is recovering well, thank you,” Solange lied. “The fifth round of chemo stabilized her condition. My parents will continue to look after her, and urged me to return for orientation.”

“Well, we’re glad to have you,” Henry said, revealing his dimples with a smile.

Poor kid. He was completely unaware of how many times Solange had tried to kill him last semester.

Angels and demons had a code of conduct they had to abide by. One of these strictly upheld rules dictated that we could only reveal our own celestial identities to human charges—not anyone else’s. After Henry had witnessed more than one unexplainable celestial power in my attempts to protect him, I’d chosen to let him in on my Guardian Angel secret. Sadly, so long as Solange didn’t say anything about her identity, he would remain in the dark about her true dark nature.

“So what were you going to tell me?” Solange asked Justin, who suddenly looked uncharacteristically self-conscious.

“Just, uh—” he stuttered before taking a breath and standing up straighter. “Just be careful if someone asks you if you’re French. They’re not picking up on your accent. I’ve been researching top pickup lines and that’s the setup for one.”

Henry raised an eyebrow. “What’s the punchline?”

Justin met Solange’s eyes briefly. “I ask because Eif-fel for you instantly.”

Solange blinked, then a close-lipped, amused smile spread up her face. Her reaction seemed to delight Justin. Until Razel jabbed him in the arm again.

“Ow.” He gave her a look.

“Hey, there’s a reason it’s called a punchline.” She shrugged.

Justin huffed, and after goodbyes our broken-footed friend followed his nose toward the cafeteria. Henry, Razel, Solange, and I walked across the pristine lawn to where new students were gathering for the freshman tour in front of a building with a copula and a set of pale crimson columns framing the entrance.

Henry and his sister were progressing at their inherently faster banter-pace. I let them move ahead and fell back to stride in step with Solange. When the twins were far enough out of earshot, I pointedly glanced at the demon’s rear end.

She crinkled her brow. “What are you doing?”

“Checking to see if your pants are on fire. That was some nice lying back there about your aunt. They must teach improv in Hell.”

Solange shrugged. “No. But there is a sector of Hell where people are bound, gagged, and forced to watch improv. Not the competitive high school kind; the far cringier kind corporations make their employees do for teambuilding exercises.”

I rolled my eyes.

“Maybe you’ll get to join them sometime,” she said. “The punished, not the performers.”

My snark faded to curious worry. “What are you talking about?”

Henry and Razel merged with the crowd of gathering freshman ahead. I stopped fully on the grass, causing Solange to do the same.

“Don’t be coy, Grace. You can’t pull it off like I can. The only reason you and Henry didn’t perish at prom was because my former demon coworker Oliver helped you. I don’t know what you did to make him do that, or where he’s hiding, but I do know that someone is going to be punished for crossing the line between our worlds. After I finished reforming yesterday, I told my mentor Ithaca and Oliver’s mentor what happened. They’re having a word with our superior today.” She crossed her arms and smirked with an air of annoying superiority. “Considering, unlike your boss God, the Devil doesn’t do forgiveness, I don’t see the fallout going well for you regardless of the specifics.”

A curdling feeling like cottage cheese eight months past expiration gnarled my soul. Henry and I really wouldn’t have survived last week if not for Oliver. I was beyond grateful, but now that Solange was alive to tell the tale it was like a slap-in-the-face alarm clock going off in the morning. The aftermath was about to get complicated and plausible deniability and I were about to become best friends.

“Oliver helped me on his own, Solange. I didn’t ask and I didn’t break any rules. I don’t know what he was thinking, and I certainly don’t know where he is now.”

I stared into Solange’s eyes, willing her to believe me and hoping my jeans weren’t on fire. Most of what I’d said was true, but that last comment—

A loud whistle stole our attention. We looked over and saw Razel waving us to join her and Henry; the tour guide was preparing to start. My demon foil and I trotted forward.

“You’ll get what’s coming to you, Grace,” she said with an eerie calm as we approached the group. “Oliver will too. My kind may be more brutal than yours, but both our teams abide by a code. People who do whatever they want in life have a tendency to land in Hell. People who do the same in the afterlife can create the same consequence. Angels fall too. Or hasn’t your mentor told you about Richmond?”

I opened my mouth to ask another question, but was cut off by a peppy blonde with a bob who began to speak.

“Welcome, incoming freshmen and families! I’m your tour guide Madison, and today we’re going to take a special, in-depth tour of USD to familiarize you with our majors, housing, dining options, and much more. To begin . . .” Madison turned and gestured like Vanna White at the massive complex before us. “What better place to start than one of my favorite colleges on campus: our Institute for Peace and Justice.”

Madison beckoned for us to follow her inside. Despite still feeling shaken by Solange’s words, I cocked my head toward her with a serious air, combatting my anxiety and her antagonism the best way I knew how. With sass.

“A whole school dedicated to peace and justice,” I mused quietly to her. “I guess that’s at least two potential majors you can cross off your list.”

“While we realize this is a unique requirement,” Madison continued as we journeyed past a gate into a spacious courtyard, “the mandatory live-on-campus rule for first-and-second-year students fosters a sense of community by providing an opportunity to connect with peers and stay in a safe, holistic learning environment.”

Our group paused in the center of the courtyard, framed by two-story buildings that connected ahead via a pillar-lined pathway on ground level and a bridge on the second level.

“This is the most popular freshmen living area,” Madison said. “On the right we have Founders Hall, which is all-girl, and on the left we have Camino Hall, which is all-boy. The dorms are located on the upper floors. The first floors are mainly composed of classrooms and a couple lounges. For those of you who have been assigned Founders or Camino, please remember to submit your roommate selections by mid-July.”

I raised my hand. Madison nodded at me.

“What’s the security situation?”

“Students have a key card that allows them access to their dorms.”

I held up my hand again and pointed to my campus map in the other when Madison nodded at me. “This shows a small church connected to this building. Where is it?”

“That’s Founders Chapel. It’s on the girls’ side of the building,” Madison said. “We’ll visit shortly. Now if there aren’t any other questions, let’s get out of the heat and head inside.”

I started to lift my hand to ask more of Madison, but Solange swiftly and subtly elbowed me in the ribs. It didn’t hurt; however it prevented me from posing another inquiry before our guide turned and the group resumed walking.

Solange didn’t even look me in the eye as she moved on with the tour. I hung back a moment—first glaring at her then taking advantage of the silence to absorb the layout. Though an all-boys dorm across the courtyard from an all-girls dorm seemed more like the setup for some YA romance novel rather than a real-life situation, the proximity was convenient for me to carry out my Guardian Angel duties.

“Close enough for you to keep an eye on me?” Henry asked, reading my mind. He’d hung back too and joined me, tilting his chin up at the second floor of Camino Hall.

I nodded. “I appreciate you putting this as your first choice for housing. It makes my job—”

“A Hell of a lot easier?”

I raised an eyebrow. “Wrong team, Henry.”

He shrugged like we were talking about baseball or burgers. I loved that Henry took my celestial nature in stride. The boy didn’t know everything about the afterlife. I didn’t even know everything about the afterlife. I’d only shared need-to-know information with him. I wasn’t the first Guardian Angel to reveal her identity, and had been warned that unveiling the truth was a double-edged sword—it had benefits and drawbacks. Considering what I’d experienced with Henry so far though, I didn’t see what my superiors were talking about with the latter.

Razel whistled again across the way. We hustled to catch up with the group.

“For what it’s worth,” Henry said as we walked, “I would’ve chosen Camino anyway. My sister can be annoying, but we’ve been living down the hall from each other our whole lives. Living in a hall across from her now felt right. She picked Founders for the same reason—no angel intervention necessary. It’s just my choice.”

We entered the first floor of Founders Hall as Madison explained class schedules. I edged to the front of the group soon after and listened avidly for the rest of the hour, taking mental notes on how best to keep Henry safe while also enjoying the orientation.

Madison’s presentation finished outside the student store, which was in the same building as the cafeteria. Though I was tempted to buy a sweatshirt, mug, and all sorts of souvenirs in my new university’s school colors—navy and light “Torero” blue—the call of the cafeteria was much stronger.

Maybe the school’s architect should’ve reconsidered this layout. Who wanted to browse tchotchkes when the smell of sizzling beef and baked goods was calling to you from a hundred feet away?

Like most others from orientation, Henry, Razel, our resident demon, and I pursued the promise of lunch wafting up the hall. We’d been to the cafeteria during our first tour of USD when we were applying to college. Back then I was incredibly stressed as I tried to stay composed around my still-living sister, who had no idea I was back from the dead, and had been on the tour with us to my surprise. This time I only had to have lunch while humoring a demon. I called that progress, and certainly less torture.

We turned a corner before spiraling down a metal staircase into an elegant dining hall. Dramatically grand windows cast rays of light over several dozen other people. Thin, iron circle chandeliers hung from above, reminiscent of halos.

The promise of gastrological goodness impacted us stronger with every step like a tide building in power with each breach of the shore. To our left, a load of lunch options from pasta and pizza to shumai and shawarma were being served.

Razel spotted Justin at one of the tables on the right, three empty plates beside him. The boy was scrolling through his phone but looked up as we got closer. 

“How was it?” he asked, pocketing his cell.

“Pretty cool,” Henry replied. “The science and technology building has sixty labs.”

“He’s underplaying his enthusiasm,” Razel said. “When our tour guide told us that, his face looked like mine did when my parents got me tickets to see Derek Hough’s dance show in Las Vegas last year.”

My eyes widened. “You’ve seen that?” 

She nodded. “He has so many abs I lost count.”

“And that’s my cue to leave,” Henry said, turning away.

“Wait, where are you going?” I asked—maybe a little too fast.

His expression shifted slightly in return. “Just to get lunch, Grace.”

“Oh, right,” I said. Razel and Justin gave me an odd look. “Wait for me,” I chirped.

We spread out to inspect the dining options. I eventually settled on the fried chicken line. There was a great place where I grew up in Spartanburg, South Carolina that made a mean chicken and waffle. I got a helping of poultry then went over to the breakfast bar to build my memory meal.

“So how do you want to do this?” Solange asked, appearing by my side as I poured maple syrup over my creation.

My nemesis only had a small salad on her tray. It didn’t even have croutons. Could she be any more my antithesis?

“Well, I thought I would foil you a dozen more times, ensure Henry’s soul goes on to achieve his potential, and help humanity achieve a brighter future. Sound good to you?”

“Hilarious,” Solange said dryly. “I meant, how are we handling our move-in? Freshmen are supposed to settle in their dormitories in August. Demon rule three prevents me from being in the same room with our assignment unless you are present. Summer vacation makes it difficult to stay close to Henry, so I plan on getting to USD the moment he does. What about you?”

I put down the syrup. “Solange, I may live in the sky but I’m not an airhead. I’m not going to tell you any of my plans for the summer, for moving in, or for Henry. I wouldn’t even tell you where I parked my car.”

Her eyes changed a bit—surprised and perhaps a tad miffed. I think she honestly thought she could trick me into talking about angel business. As if. I may have had a tendency to babble, but that was usually only around hot guys and when I was nervous. Solange was no Derek Hough, and she hardly intimidated me.

“Suit yourself,” she said stiffly as we approached the cashier with our trays. She shot a sideways glance at my fried feast. “But you better not drop crumbs on the carpet or stink up our room with food like that once the semester starts. I hail from the original Hell; I’m not creating a secondary version of it here with you and your southern fried eating habits.”

It took another two steps for Solange’s words to work their way from my ears to my understanding. Then my sneakers squeaked to a pause on the tiled floor.

“What do you mean, our room?”

Solange looked at me with confusion that soon melted to amusement. “Did your mentor not tell you that yet either?” She patted my arm patronizingly. “Poor angel. Je suis désolé. I forget that your pathetic, out-of-practice mentor likes to baby you with hard truths. Allow me to enlighten you. Our mentors came to an agreement. You and I will be college roommates.”

I frowned. “One, my mentor is awesome. You insult her, you insult me. Two, there’s no way she would agree to me rooming with you for a year.”

Solange raised her fine eyebrows. “One, I love insulting you. So for future reference, consider it my way of killing two angels with one stone. Two, it was your mentor’s idea.”

A headache started attacking me with the same intensity that ants besieged a box of donuts on the grass. Maybe the gift shop sold Torero blue ice packs.

“Why?” I asked.

Solange huffed. “I’m not a tour guide or a teacher, Grace. I don’t have to answer your incessant questions. Ask the angels yourself.”

“Fine, I will.” I beelined to the cashier.

“Grace, wait,” Solange said, taken by surprise. “ I didn’t mean now. If you leave, I have to as well. Rule Three. Can we not be civilized and finish lunch first?”

“Two to-go boxes please,” I told the plump woman at the register. She nodded and handed me a pair of takeaway containers. I gave one to Solange.

“An uncivilized person wouldn’t care if you wasted your salad. You’re welcome.”

Solange narrowed her gaze.

“Together or separate?” the cashier asked.

“Separate,” we said in unison.

Chapter 2: The Man Upstairs

The celestial powers above may not have known the specifics of Henry’s destiny, but every so often they deduced key elements that would impact it. For instance, they insisted for Henry to achieve his potential he had to attend the University of San Diego. The exact reasons for this remained unclear, though there were already some clear benefits from my perspective. To start with, the school’s religious roots made being his Guardian Angel a lot simpler.

USD had begun as a Catholic college. This bore little consequence now, as students of all faiths attended. But the school’s two on-campus chapels would allow me to come and go with ease. Any house of worship became an instant stairway to Heaven for angels on the job.

I made it to Founders Chapel, the smell of fried chicken from the box in my hand following me doggedly. I paused under the weighty stone crown centered above the entrance to the house of worship. During the tour, Madison had held the door open for us. Now, in response to my touch, when I pulled the handle a flash of light consumed me. Then I was in a shower stall.

Okay, not really. That’s just what these small, glittery alcoves in Heaven’s Arrival Center reminded me of. I exited and strode down the corridor with more urgency than I’d had for a few days. Solange had only been back in my afterlife a couple hours and she already had my undershorts in a twist.

Akari wouldn’t make me room with her. Especially without asking me . . . Right?

My mentor had been an ace Guardian Angel for decades. Then, years ago, she’d made a difficult choice on the job and her assignment was killed as a result. It was a rough break for humanity because he never got to achieve his Earth-enhancing destiny. Akari, however, suffered just as brutally because not only did she carry the guilt of this failure, she’d been close friends with her assignment like I was with Henry, so it was a grave personal loss. She never forgave herself and quit the GAs. Until God specifically asked her to come back to be my mentor.

She’d shown up day one of my afterlife—the first person I saw when I woke in Heaven, and there to guide me every day since then. I was grateful for that.

When I arrived here I faced a lot of emotional issues, as anyone who died did, especially those who died young. Being asked to immediately start working as a Guardian Angel (GA) only exacerbated that processing period. Not many souls had the moral compass to be trusted with this immense responsibility. Since mine did, I was figuratively thrown into the fire right away.

Ironic considering I think they literally did that in another plane of the afterlife.

Akari had helped me find my strength through that—sometimes directly, other times inadvertently. Most importantly, she’d helped me come to terms with this role and find peace with my place in the universe.

My mentor and I didn’t see eye-to-eye on everything, and I had resented her at times for not being fully forthcoming with me. But we’d worked through a lot of that over the last five months since my death and ascension. Lately we’d started being more honest with each other because we wanted to be, not because Heaven’s magical honesty filter required us to tell the truth. I had hoped that trend would continue. I dreamed of us being more like friends than forced colleagues. Though I wondered if that was even possible in a universe that had so many plans penned in ink that none of us were privy to erase. Could we be our own whiteout when the world tried to wreak havoc on our intentions? I didn’t know.

While I wholeheartedly disagreed with Solange about Akari being pathetic, and hated giving any points to my demon nemesis, she wasn’t completely off base when she said Akari was out of practice. She hadn’t exactly been at her best self when she took on the charge of helping me be my best self, and old habits—like not telling people the full truth—died hard.

I finished the last leg of the hallway and merged into the fantastic foyer of the Arrival Center. A mosaic map of Earth spread on the floor beneath my feet. Crystal obelisks shot up from the perimeter and hung from the ceiling like we were in a celestial cavern. Above, stained glass windows displayed glorious moments in human history.

Opposite where I stood, another hall led to stalls for Guardian Angel departures. Between us innumerable angels crossed corridors as they came and went from Earth. Shoe squeaks, clicks, and steps echoed around me incessantly.

This access point between planes of reality probably never had a slow day. GAs were assigned to all parts of the world, and there were different segments to the GA organization. I was in long-term assignments—paired with a single person to protect until his great potential and path were set. Other GAs monitored the globe as a whole and tried to intervene on a moment’s notice to deter destruction and save miscellaneous innocents.

And we were only half of the folks who frequented this building. To the right, an enormous open archway connected with the busy Soul Sorting Department.

In this divine mailroom, Heaven-bound souls appeared as envelopes in one of the countless cubbies reaching toward the ceiling. They were retrieved by angels in shimmering-silver mailperson attire and winged backpacks, then delivered to the inboxes of angels working at gold desks on ground level. The latter were responsible for ensuring souls got settled in Heaven, assigning guides for normal people and mentors for future GAs. This was where fate had found a reason for Akari to come out of hiding, forcing us on each other’s paths . . .

Angst fluttered erratically inside me like a butterfly trapped in a monsoon.

And I was having such a good day before this.

I moved for the exit on the left and hustled down the steps, only pausing when my sneakers squished cloud. In Heaven they had the same texture as thick cream cheese, but the firmness of futons.

I glanced back at the Arrival Center, which to me took the form of a breathtaking, sky-reaching gold cathedral. That appearance wasn’t for everyone. This place, along with the rest of Heaven, was dependent on the eye of the beholder and their belief systems on Earth. That made sense considering if you landed here you were hardly going to be happy if you found out the things you believed in weren’t as they should be.

If my angel friends told me they saw anything from a gilded synagogue to a gold-plated Starbucks when looking at this building, that’d still be cool. Faith was not about fact; it was about feeling. And no one could tell you what to feel. You had to figure it out for yourself. I liked that the afterlife respected that.

Why did anyone have to be right or wrong when it came to belief? Why couldn’t you have your thing and I have my thing and we both still exist in a place of truth and meaning?

I walked toward the edge of the cloud, the gleaming Pearlie Gates extended in both directions ahead. I raised my wrist and pressed the call icon on the touch screen of my Soul Pulse. These watches were standard issue for every soul in the afterlife, regardless of realm. The functions and features varied depending on the soul. A couple of consistencies were that every Soul Pulse could make calls to some extent, and they couldn’t be removed.

Though our Soul Pulses could be operated telepathically, I spent enough time on Earth that I varied between that magical way of operating my watch, and the normal one.

“Akari Brown,” I said to my raised wrist.

The white watch shone then went dark. A profile check revealed that my mentor had her privacy settings on, which meant I couldn’t teleport directly to her either.

I realized I was clenching my jaw and purposefully took a deep breath. Since Solange was out of the picture last week, and summer vacation meant she wouldn’t have as many opportunities to get near Henry, Akari had given me some time off regular GA training. I’d had no intention of returning to the office so soon, but this couldn’t wait. My mentor and I needed to have another “why didn’t you tell me” conversation. The anxieties over her keeping things from me were festering like they used to, and I didn’t want that. It’d be like nothing had changed.

Sigh.

Maybe nothing ever did. Maybe it was just people who changed and they colored the circumstances around us with new shades only as long as we worked to actively project them.

In the hopes of finding my mentor in her private quarters at the GA offices, I teleported. A flash later and I was on the glass balcony that rimmed the main floor of the GA operation at Angel Tower—the tallest building in the citadel of Heaven known as The First City. Considering teleports didn’t work inside, this was the fastest access point to get where I was going.

I lifted my Soul Pulse to the scanner on the glass door. My ID was accepted and I proceeded into the GA command center. There were more screens in here than a Best Buy showroom, more hologram projections than a sci-fi TV program, and enough gold accents to make Scrooge McDuck tip his hat. The real stunner, though, was the massive Southern oak tree in the middle. Encircled by rings of desks, this “Angel Oak” was easily fifty feet tall. Its gnarled yet graceful branches held monitors of all sizes that displayed changing maps, video footage of Earth, and profiles of humans being monitored by the division of GAs tasked with keeping an eye on Earth as a whole. If the GAs were a secret agency, they’d be the data analysts to my branch who were undercover operatives.

I bobbed around a few angels dressed in white—the official on-duty dress code for daily Guardian Angel employees—and made it to the rear of the room. There was a time when my presence in the GA command center would have caused more than a few stares. I’m not saying that didn’t happen anymore; I just didn’t notice or care.

People were assigned afterlife planes of existence based on their percentages of good and bad. In order to be a Guardian Angel you had to be at least 90% good. It was a rare quality, but one everyone in this office shared. We were all diamonds. Apparently I was like a yellow diamond though—something that caught the light in a special way. My designation was 98% good, which made me the angel with the highest percentage of goodness to ever walk through here. It took people a while to get used to that. It took me even longer. There were a plethora of expectations that came with that high a percentage, which tormented me for a time.

Eventually—thankfully—I’d come into my own through some hard-won self-acceptance. Ninety-Eight was just a number. The only meaning it had was whatever I put into it with my actions and intentions.

I exited the command center. One crystal floor corridor later I arrived at my mentor’s door. I paused facing her nameplate.

AKARI BROWN

Senior Guardian Angel

Long-Term Assignments

12:1

A waterfall wall on my right ran parallel to the row of doors on the left. Its trickling sounds did little to soothe me. I bit my lip and tried to tame the anxious embers.

Why hadn’t Akari told me that I was going to share a room with Solange? More importantly, how could I feel like I trusted my mentor and yet always carry this sense that I had to stay on guard around her?

Had Solange gotten in my head or had I gotten in my head? Maybe it was both.

Akari had changed since we’d met. She’d let me in a bit; sharing the truth about her previous assignment getting killed had been a huge hurdle to cross, and I felt like she’d come to care about me as a person, not just an assignment. That being said, I genuinely didn’t know if our breakthrough was enough to break free of past problems in every respect. We’d been through a great deal in the last five months, but she’d been a GA for over a century. A lot could alter a person in that time. Perhaps I was naïve to think our milestone and recent bonding was more than one lap in a marathon.

I released a sigh. A consequence of being a person who asked a ton of questions was that you had a tendency to question people. With so much of Akari’s history a mystery, I suppose questioning her was a reflex—as natural as putting butter on toast.

I felt compelled to challenge that instinct, but it fought back and that made me consider the concept of faith. I wasn’t particularly religious, but in reflection having faith in God or any higher power could be simple if you were inclined. Having faith in yourself, as I’d learned this year, was hard. Having faith in others, meanwhile, was infinitely more difficult.

Mortals didn’t “meet their maker” regularly, and therefore that spiritual entity could be anything you wanted or needed them to be to make you strong. They filled the void with the very concept of their existence. If you had total faith in God, or whatever higher power you preferred, there came a sense of peace because you were letting go—believing someone out there had a plan and could be trusted to execute it.

Faith in human beings was not so simple. Having faith in yourself was reliant on you filling the void every day with your own firm mind, unapologetic heart, and conviction of soul. It was something I’d struggled with previously and maybe—like most people—would waver with here and there over the years. But I’d conquered the main monster of this tall order in the first phase of my afterlife journey. As I entered my second, and faced Akari’s door, I wondered how much tougher it was going to be to have complete faith in other people. In order to inspire that kind of belief, people had to behave consistently—filling that void with their character, words, and actions on a constant basis. Any deviation could cause faith to falter; any misstep could be seen as flaw or weakness instead of grand design or the greater good.

That was where Akari fell short for me. She wasn’t consistent, and our deeper connection was a new thing. It made me second-guess her even though I didn’t want to, and even though I liked and trusted her. That may not have made sense in the head, but it did in the heart. You could trust a person yet not have faith in them. Trust was based on the past—credits people earned from what they’d already said and done. Faith was based on the future—believing those credits were enough to expect a person to come through in a certain way for whatever lay ahead.

Sequel sigh.

Maybe I should pick psychology as my major at USD. For now, “Undecided” is an unintentionally funny fallback.

I summoned all my courage and knocked on my mentor’s door. There was no answer. My second knock yielded no better luck.

“She’s in a meeting, Ninety-Eight.”

I pivoted to Gentry Stein, walking toward me. The GA was tall even by tree standards. I could barely see his wispy hair from my approximate five-and-a-half-foot stature.

Akari was as much known for being an open book as turtles were for being outgoing, but Gentry was one of her closest friends in the department. Maybe he could help me.

“Hi, Gentry. Do you know how long she’ll be? I thought she had office hours right now.”

“Typically, yeah. But this was impromptu. She’s meeting with the man upstairs.”

“God?”

“No. Julio in museum curating.”

“Oh.”

“She did meet with God earlier today.”

The statement sunk in with shock then I smacked him on the arm. “Way to bury the lead, Gentry! That’s a big deal. Akari told me she’s only met God four times in her whole afterlife.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to undersell that. It’s been a busy day and I’m starving and . . .” Gentry’s pale blue eyes honed in on the to-go box in my hand. The smell of chicken and waffles must have finally reached his altitude. He opened his mouth just as his Soul Pulse beeped madly. The angel read whatever message had appeared on his watch face.

“Crud, I gotta cut my break. One of the new recruits is caught in the interdimensional tubes.” He pointed at my to-go box. “You gonna eat that? It smells great and I skipped lunch.”

“Our Soul Pulses can make any food we want appear. I only took this from the USD cafeteria because I don’t believe in food waste. Wouldn’t you rather have something fresh?”

Gentry waved a hand. “No way. I love leftovers and Earth takeout is awesome.”

“Suit yourself.” I passed him the box and he gave me a friendly, silly salute.

“Thanks, Ninety-Eight. I’ll see you later.”

Gentry hustled down the hall and I was left with nothing but a mouthful of unspoken thoughts. I detested the bad taste of having a mountain of questions and no one to answer them.

I didn’t know what God had wanted to talk to Akari about, but last time she met with him it was to convince her to come back to the GAs to be my mentor. It wasn’t a stretch that this meeting had to do with me too, and I had a bad feeling about the exact subject. Solange said her mentor was talking with their superior in Hell today about what really happened at prom. Could that info have worked its way up the divine grapevine so soon?

I gulped like I was swallowing peanut butter.

If that was the case—and God knew that a demon had helped me protect Henry last week—I needed to prepare myself, and prepare someone else.

Darn, and I had really been trying to avoid going home for as long as possible.

It was strange to knock on your own front door.

I stood on the brick path that led up to my one-story, powder-blue cottage. Every angel had a dwelling in Heaven that reflected his or her heart’s truest desires for a dream home. I loved everything about mine from the triangular roof to the spire chimney to the perpetually blossoming orange tree on the lawn that supported a two-seater swing for extra cuteness.

I knocked again. Homes in Heaven didn’t typically have locks on their doors. There was no bad to keep out. I’d used the Heaven Home Depot app on my Soul Pulse to install a bolt recently because I was trying to keep bad in, and keep other angels from realizing I was harboring it. Which brought me to the only thing I didn’t love about my house: the guest.

I heard footsteps nearing the other side of the door.

Courage, I reminded myself.

“It’s me,” I said in a loud whisper, glancing over my shoulder to ensure none of my angelic neighbors witnessed my weird behavior.

The distinct sound of a deadbolt being pulled back came through the wood. Then my red door opened a few inches. Though there were shadows behind him, Oliver’s piercing ocean eyes were filled with light. They always made me feel a little light-headed if I stared directly at them for too long, so I didn’t. He moved aside so I could slip in. Then I locked the door behind me.

“You’re back,” he said.

I couldn’t tell if the demon was surprised, relieved, or dismayed. He’d always been impossible to read—like a book written in ancient Greek you were trying to understand in the dark.

“It’s my house, Oliver. Did you think I would stay away forever?”

“I was starting to. When I got here a few days ago you were barely home an hour before you and your dog ditched me and flew off to some ritzy Heaven hotel.”

“It seemed like the proper thing to do. I needed time to think. I still need time to think. In the interim I wasn’t exactly going to be okay with having you as a roommate.”

I crossed my arms and crossed the blonde wood floors to my living room. The sole sources of light currently came from the TV above the fireplace and the LED cloud-shaped chandelier that hung between the exposed wooden beams of my ceiling. Programed to illuminate the way actual storm clouds did, the fixture crackled with lightning. My heart’s rumbling seemed in sync with it, internal thunder—which only grew louder when I looked at Oliver.

I’d felt a connection with the demon the moment we met when my GA training class toured Hell. We’d had a series of short but undeniably profound interactions since then. He’d pushed me to come to terms with my true GA self. He’d crossed ethical lines in Hell to help me understand my mother and mend our relationship. I’d returned the favor with him and his mother here in Heaven. And of course he’d saved me and Henry on Earth. If not for his intervention, I would have failed my friend and first GA assignment—and humanity—all in one swoop. Now he was relying on me to save him. But unlike prom, this wasn’t about one night and one action. The new dilemma Oliver presented had far more lasting consequences.

“Has the distance provided any clarity?” he asked.

I sighed. “Not really. In fact, things have gotten worse. You escaped Hell and snuck into Heaven because you knew when the other demons found out you helped an angel you’d be toast. Well, they know. Solange finished reforming and she told Ithaca and Troy about prom.”

Oliver’s eyebrows—darker than his dirty blond hair—rose in alarm. Not surprising. I didn’t know his mentor Troy well, but considering the demon had hung me out of an elevator to a death drop once, I didn’t think he was the understanding type. Or the merciful.

Oliver cringed, the news having sunk in. “That’s—”

“Only part of it,” I cut in. “I just found out Akari had a meeting with God today. God can’t see everything, and it’s worked in our favor that having a demon nearby makes it impossible for any celestial eyes in Heaven or Hell to see what’s happening on Earth clearly. But I think our judgment day is coming and we need to prepare for it to be bad. Unlike the Terminator movie of the same name, which was pretty good.”

“You’ve seen that?” he said in surprise.

“Technically I closed my eyes through forty percent of it, but I applaud the world-building. That’s hard to do, you know, and—” I waved a hand. “Stop distracting me. This is serious, and you bating me to babble isn’t helping.” I paced the room. The family photos on my blue-gray walls felt like a sounding board. What would my rational, level-headed father do? What would my feisty, kind-hearted sister do? What would my firm, decorum-loving mother do?

What would I do?

“Okay, look,” I said, turning around. “We can’t lie in Heaven. So maybe it’s a good thing you never really told me why you helped me and Henry. If God asks, I can answer with complete honesty. Aside from that . . .” I strode forward. “I think the biggest thing we have working for us is this.”

I took his hand in mine and raised it to chest level. His palm was warmer than expected, and on noticing that I gulped another glob of imaginary peanut butter. I let him go hastily.

“Your missing Soul Pulse,” I clarified. “Without it you can’t be tracked. Your evil coworkers may be hunting you as we speak, but they have no reason to believe you could be anywhere outside of Hell or Earth. No one from your plane of the afterlife is supposed to be able to reach mine, and Soul Pulses are allegedly incapable of being removed, so not a soul would think to look for you up here.” I paused. “What did you do with your Soul Pulse anyway?”

He frowned a bit. “Don’t worry about it.”

This time my sigh was tonally harder—edged with frustration and accompanied by a fist clenching. The combination gave Oliver the presence of mind to know he was pushing his luck.

“Grace, I’m not trying to be difficult,” he responded, expression softening. “It’s like you said, the less you know, the better. I’m beyond grateful that you’ve let me hide out here, and I hope you continue to let me. Demons get obliterated if we fail an assignment. I don’t think the punishment for helping an angel save theirs would be any less severe so I’m kind of stuck here at your mercy if I don’t want to be destroyed. At the same time, I don’t want to get you in trouble. The best way I know how to keep both those things from happening is to keep you in the dark. In other words, it’s better for the two of us if you don’t ask questions or push me to answer them.”

I looked at him sadly. “Oliver . . . that’s not really in character for me.”

We held each other’s gaze for a beat. Oliver had called me his friend before. I wanted to see him the same way and yet there was a wall that made the word seem out of reach. It truly wasn’t in my nature to be at peace with barriers, or unanswered questions, but until I figured out what to do about this, and him, maybe it was for the best to keep that distance between us. All the demon’s actions in the time I’d known him suggested he was good, but his afterlife residence and role literally meant he had way more bad in him than good. That was logic. And yet . . . one look in his eyes and I was taken back to that first moment we spoke on the train in Hell. Something in him was worth reconsidering, all logic aside.

That didn’t make this dynamic any less conflicting though. Did I really want that kind of added difficulty on my plate? I already had a similar relationship with Akari—someone I spent a lot of time with who I didn’t know a ton about but who I had to trust immensely. At least in her case she was an angel, so whatever her motivations were at a given time I had the reassurance they were rooted in goodness. Oliver was a demon. Nothing about him was reassuring.

My Soul Pulse rang.

“It’s Akari,” I said. I accepted the call, using the option where my mentor’s face filled my watch rather than projecting her as a hologram, which would allow her to see my surroundings.

“How was your meeting with the man upstairs?” I asked. At the surprise in Akari’s eyes, I explained. “Gentry told me.”

“It was unexpected, Grace,” she said carefully. “And it put me in a position I’ve never been in before. Can you come to Angel Tower? We need to discuss what he told me.”

My fist clenched again with nerves. “Just to be clear, I was talking about God, not Julio.”

“Yes, Grace. I know.”