One month later...

Mila stared at her computer screen, but she couldn't seem to process any of the information. Her eyes drifted to the other side of the couch, where Stella was curled up, cuddling a stuffed unicorn and sound asleep.

A couple weeks earlier, Stella came down with another infection, much worse than the last. They put a PICC line in her so she could have antibiotics at home, but the doctor's message was pretty clear. This infection was bad, Stella's cancer had spread, and there was a high chance her body would not survive this one.

Mila swallowed back her millionth lump for the day, tearing her eyes away from her little sister and focusing on her screen once again. Trying to, at least. She wasn't sure she could focus on anything except not crying her eyes out in front of her dying sister.

The doorbell rang and Mila blinked, glancing to the side as Terry came down the hallway. "I'll get it," he announced as he disappeared down the hallway and into the foyer.

Mila didn't respond. She found talking to be tedious these days. Instead, she let out another sigh and pressed her fingers to her temples, massaging gently while she tried to ignore the stinging pain in her chest. She sincerely hoped it wasn't another police officer coming to ask about Dallas. It wasn't that they thought she was the one to kill him, it was that they couldn't figure out who did and she was unfortunately someone Dallas had regular contact with.

A few days after the last time Mila saw Marcus, Dallas's body washed up in the bay. It was a cold case and Mila knew it would stay that way. They couldn't gather evidence against a being that didn't exist in this realm.

Even thinking about him caused another pain inside her. She hadn't seen him since that night he said he loved her. The night she found out Stella was going to die. The night everything in her life changed for the worse in every conceivable way.

At first, she tried to convince herself she didn't miss Marcus, she was just angry with him. That didn't last long because now the tables turned. She knew Stella was going to die and Terry didn't. She tried to justify her not telling him because she was worried he'd have her locked up again, but she didn't really believe that. She didn't tell him because she couldn't. Not only could she not because it would mean telling him Marcus was a demon- a whole other can of worms she did not want to open- and he spoke to an angel who said Stella would die soon. They didn't know when, or what exactly it would be that took her, just that it would happen.

It wasn't exactly the most concrete information, and Mila analyzed it a thousand different ways before she decided it wouldn't help anything. If Terry even believed her, it would destroy him too. The more time passed, the more Marcus's words unfortunately made sense. She was waiting for it to happen instead of living in the moment. That wasn't her. She always lived in the moment, but with Stella she couldn't. Mila wondered if that was part of the reason, too. That Marcus knew her well enough to know she always lived in the moment and that this information would prevent her from doing so. That would imply he knew her better than she even thought.

It was after these realizations, she decided she hated him for a different reason. She decided this when she ended up crying on Terry's shoulder one night because she couldn't take it anymore. She told him no details, just that her and Marcus had a fight and he wouldn't be back, that she was scared of Stella dying. It was the first time in a long time she let her brother comfort her and it was that night she resolved she hated Marcus.

She hated him for making her vulnerable. She hated him for making her hopeful. She hated him for seeing her in a way no one else ever would. She hated him for knowing her so well. She hated him for making her feel sane. She hated him for feeling known on a level she hardly even knew herself.

Except the problem was she didn't hate him. She missed him, and she hated she did. Never relying on anyone was the best way to go, but she started relying on him. To be an anchor, to be the good thing in her life when everything else was stressful, to help her work out that stress, to be the only place she felt safe being vulnerable. He'd somehow snuck in and become a good thing in her life and now he was gone...

The void was suffocating.

Marcus felt the same. The time apart from Mila was the worst torture he could think of. The only good it did was remind him how powerful a loved one could be used against someone. His punishments of evil souls took on a new level of pain when he started reminding the souls of the people they loved the most, then made them get lost in false memories of watching their loved ones violently killed. Lilith praised him for the extended torment, but he couldn't care less if he was back in her good graces. The only woman's good graces he wanted to be in was in another realm.

After another day that felt endless, Marcus was back in his cave in hell. He laid on the plush, crimson couch, staring up at the uneven, rocky ceiling. His fingers twitched towards his wrist and he sighed, trying not to give into himself. It won't help. It was what he repeated uselessly, because he still pulled his sleeve up and gazed down at the hair tie around his wrist.

Plastic cherries. It was the hair tie Stella used when she first fixed his hair into a man bun. He left with it and never gave it back. Now, he almost never took it off. It was a link to Stella, and to Mila. A link that would tell him when the other side of it died. When Stella died.

Marcus swallowed again, fiddling with the cherries between two fingers while that ache in his chest grew worse. The stinging in his eyes that he'd grown way too familiar with returned. He missed them. He missed Mila.

"All right, we can't take the moping."

Marcus sighed, his gaze fixed on the ceiling even more intently now. "Go away, Arda."

"No," Arda said, plopping down on Marcus's legs since he was taking up the whole couch.

Marcus issued a warning growl and Arda ignored it. Instead, she snatched the wrist with the hair tie and held it up for both of them to see. "This is pathetic. Go see her if it's causing you this much distress."

"I can't."

"Did you suddenly forget how to change realms?" Arda asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I know how to change realms," Marcus snapped, pulling his wrist back and yanking his feet out from under her. "That's not why I can't. I'll only drag her soul to hell and she deserves better."

"What about what she wants?" Arda countered.

"She needs to be with her sister."

"...Who she wants to save," Arda said, her brows pulling together. "Why doesn't she just sacrifice her soul for a miracle?"

Marcus clenched his jaw. "I told her it wasn't something that could be done anymore."

"I normally mean this is as a compliment but I don't right now," Arda said, giving him a side-glance. "Liar."

Marcus said nothing, just refocused his attention on the ceiling.

"You've been a miserable ass for a month," Arda sighed. "Do something about it. At least come have drinks with us. Just don't think about it for one night."

Just don't think about it. She didn't understand that wasn't possible. His thoughts and concerns were consumed by Mila and Stella. He wasn't capable of thinking of anything else.

"I don't want a drink. Get lost, Arda. I want to be alone."

"No you don't," Arda said, standing and giving him a look. "I'm just not the one you want to be alone with."

Marcus again, chose not to respond. There was nothing he could say to make it make sense to Arda. He didn't know how to explain the void in him wasn't going away.

The void was big. Too big and too painful to think about for him, and for Mila. Which was why Mila tried not to think about it as often as possible. She couldn't afford to hurt more. She was already grieving for her sister who wasn't even gone yet. Anymore was adding too much to an overfull plate.

"Mimi," Terry said, peeking around the corner. "It's for you. Not police."

"Who?" Mila frowned.

"Some guy named Callum? Says he works with you and needed to drop some stuff off while you're working at home."

"Oh," Mila said, her brows furrowing. No one told her he would be coming by.

Sighing, Mila stood and set her laptop on the couch where she'd been sitting. Not bothering to fuss over her hair or what she looked like- her life was too much a mess to worry about something like that- she made her way to the hallway, nodding a thanks to Terry as she passed by.

Mila padded down the hallway, mustering her best smile as she drew closer to the door left open by Terry. "Hi, Callum."

"Hey," Callum smiled his normal warm smile but it didn't do the things to her it used to. He smiled all the time. It wasn't a bad thing but she'd grown used to a demon who rarely smiled but when he did, that smile knocked the wind out of you both because it was beautiful and rare. "How are you doing?"

Shitty as fuck. I hate everything.

"Fine," Mila answered, wrapping her arms around herself. "I didn't know you were stopping by, I would've made myself more decent."

She was in pajamas. Maybe she should have changed, given Callum could technically be called a boss, but she just couldn't care. It was difficult to care about anything when her sister was dying and the love of her life was gone.

"Oh, you're fine. You look beautiful as always," Callum grinned, holding out a stack of files. "Brought this for you. No need to thank me for bringing you more work."

He winked at the last part and Mila attempted a small laugh as she took the files. "Thank you."

"It wasn't completely selfless," Callum said, smiling sheepishly. "I wanted to see you."

Mila raised an eyebrow, unsure how to respond. So she didn't. She just hugged the files to her chest and waited.

"I know you have a lot going on, but everyone needs dinner, don't they?" He asked. "I'd love to take you out. Give you a break, get some food on you. Maybe even find that long lost smile and bring it out again."

A few months ago, Callum asking her to dinner would've made her squeal in glee. But as she looked at him, she realized the crush she had before was shallow. He was too clean for her. Too proper, too gentlemanly, too sweet without any bite. She liked the bite. One person's bite, in particular.

"I appreciate the offer, I really do," Mila said honestly. "But I just... I'm still not over..." she trailed off, unable to say his name. "And my sister is very sick. If I'm away from her at all, I'll lose my mind."

"I understand," Callum nodded, giving her a sympathetic smile. "How's she doing?"

Mila shrugged. "Not so well."

"I'm so sorry, Mila," Callum sighed. "If there's anything we can do to help you, if you need a leave of absence..."

Mila was saving her leave of absence, but she couldn't tell him that. There was no sane way to explain to someone that she knew her sister was going to die and it was only a matter of time.

"Thank you," Mila said, stepping back inside the house. "I'll let you know."

"Take care, Mila," Callum said, throwing his hand up in a wave.

Mila gave him her best smile then went back inside, closing the door by leaning back against it. She stayed there for a second, the tears building yet again. She knew she'd need her leave of absence once Stella was gone. It wouldn't be enough. It would never be enough. But it was all she would have and she'd somehow have to figure out a way to pull herself together by the time she returned to work.

She didn't think that was possible either.

Knowing she couldn't make it the next few minutes without noticeable crying, she quickly pushed off the door and hurried down the hall, up the stairs to the bathroom. Slamming the files on the counter, she plopped down on the toilet seat and dropped her head in her hands as the tears fell. Tears for Stella, tears for the life she wouldn't get, tears for the horrible emptiness her absence would leave behind, tears for all of it. Tears that right in that moment, she wanted a certain demon's arms around her because then maybe the grief wouldn't feel so unbearable and all-consuming.

"Bad time?"

Mila gasped and jumped, nearly falling off the toilet. She looked up with wide eyes, seeing an unfamiliar woman- definitely demon, given the horns and wings- standing in her bathroom.

"Sorry," the woman said, holding her hands up in surrender. "I forget humans spook easy."

Mila's brows pulled together as she stared at the demon, unsure what to say.

"Right, we haven't actually met, ha," she laughed, slapping her leg. "My bad. I forgot. Marcus talks about you so much, I feel as though I know you. I'm Arda."

"Marcus?" Mila repeated, her mouth suddenly dry. "You know Marcus?"

Arda nodded. Mila swallowed, still unsure what to say. Did she ask Arda to bring Marcus to her? Or did Marcus send her for some reason?

"I hear you like getting to the point so here's the point," Arda said, clapping her hands together. "Marcus is a miserable motherfucker without you. It's unbearable. A little annoying, if I'm being honest. We don't like seeing it. It seems you're rather miserable as well and although I'm sure it's mostly because of your sister, I was hoping a small part of might be because you miss that miserable demon."

Mila shrugged. Arda crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. "I can smell lies."

Oh, I'm aware, Mila thought. She took in a deep breath and nodded. "I miss him."

"He misses you," Arda said. Mila wasn't sure if that information relieved some of the ache in her heart or made it worse. "And also, he lied to you about something. I've come to remedy that. What you choose to do with the information is up to you, I'm only here to deliver it.

Mila frowned. "He lied to me? About what?"

"Yeah, but you know, his intentions were pure so try to keep that in mind," Arda shrugged. "He told you we no longer exchanged souls for miracles." Mila's eyes widened. "We do. He just didn't want you stuck in hell for eternity. But that's not really his choice. So, if you choose to do something about this information," Arda said, holding out her hand where a paper with words scribbled on it simply appeared in her hand. "Here are the words to summon Lilith and make the deal. Your choice."

Mila took the paper, too stunned to speak. She glanced up but Arda was already gone. All that was left were the words that could both save Stella and... Take her to Marcus.