As about a week had passed, Mary and Hermes relaxed somewhat. Hiram thought it had to do with the demon’s storytelling because both had commented on it at least once. One afternoon, when they had stopped on the side of the road for lunch, Hermes looked at the demon for a moment and said, “Mary says you aren’t human.”

“Correct,” they said.

“What are you, then?”

“I was an angel.”

The man wrinkled his brow. “Angels are green?”

“Certainly not all of us,” they said. “Believe me or don’t, it makes no difference.”

They all ate in silence for a few minutes until Hermes set down his food and said, “If you an angel, can you tell me why—”

“Don’t,” Mary warned, her face serious.

“Why nobody answers my prayers?” the man finished.

Mary gave him a cross look, her lips pressed together.

“I’m not an angel anymore,” the creature said. “I don’t know how they run things in Heaven now.”

“Nobody answers your prayers because you don’t have any faith,” Mary told her cousin.

Phaedrus glanced at Hiram and quietly confessed, “I hate when people ask me about things like this. I never had any answers, even when I was in Heaven.”

Hiram didn’t know what to say. He looked up at the sky and around at the grass where they sat. “It might rain,” he said.

Phaedrus raised their head a little and took a breath. “No, I don’t think so. At least, I hope not.”

The wind picked up a little, and Hiram imagined that it was a threat.

Phaedrus wiped their hands and stood. “I’m going to stretch my legs before we head out.”

They walked away.

Hiram stood, cleaned his hand on his trousers, and hurried to catch up.

The demon glanced back. “You could have stayed.”

“Oh, uh…I just…did you want me to stay behind?” Hiram asked, suddenly feeling that the demon must have wanted time away from him.

“No,” they said. “I’m just going to stretch my legs.”

Hiram hesitated, wondering if he should go back to the others. As he thought, Phaedrus continued to walk, glancing back after they had gone about two yards.

“Are you coming or not?”

Hiram had no answer and found himself rooted to the ground. He had not imagined himself as an insecure partner, but as he debated whether the demon’s comment could be taken as rejection, the realization dawned on him. He had fallen for someone and found himself incapable of being without them. Being by the creature’s side had become the only place that felt safe.

The demon approached and touched his forehead with the back of their hand. They took him by the hand and said, “Come along.”

Hiram gripped their hand tight but did not move; instead, he pulled the demon back to him and buried his face in against their shoulder.

Phaedrus rubbed his back. “Take your time, dear. A lot has happened.”

Hiram sniffled.

“Just breathe,” the demon advised. “Focus on that.”

Hiram took a breath and let it out slowly. He took another after that, trying to think only of his lungs and not of how it felt as though the world could fall away at any minute.

“You’re okay, I promise,” they said after a few minutes had passed.

Hiram nodded.

“This will pass,” they said. “All of this.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. This is normal. I’d be more concerned if what has happened left you untouched. Are you ready to walk?”

Hiram didn’t think he was, but he knew he should at least try. He nodded.

Still holding his hand, Phaedrus began to walk and when Hiram found himself frozen, they said, “One step at a time. Think about moving one foot.”

Hiram took a single step and then one more.

Phaedrus smiled at him.

Together they walked for maybe a hundred yards, then turned back toward Mary and Hermes. Hiram tried to think about the movement of his feet, the pressure of Phaedrus’ hand on his and the sound of the grass in the wind. He knew if he started to think about Blackwell, about his time in that basement, he would be back where he’d started. If he recalled the gouts of blood that had come from his hand, that had poured down his chest, he would be lost.

“What about you?” Hiram asked.

“Hmm?”

“Why isn’t this happening to you?”

With a small smile, they said, “I imagine it would if I didn’t have you to worry about.”

“That doesn’t seem right.”

“And eventually I’ll write a book about it. Maybe you should try that, having a journal. Writing things down is an excellent way to deal with trauma.”

Hiram almost scoffed at the word trauma.

“Ready?” Phaedrus asked the other two, who had finished their meal.

Hermes nodded and Mary gathered up the blanket they had shared. They all returned to the carriage, though this time Mary elected to sit out front with her cousin, the blanket tucked over her lap.

“Will you ever tell me the name of your book?” Hiram asked once the carriage had begun to move.

“Oh, of course, I won’t,” Phaedrus said.

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t want you to know,” the demon said. “It’s my last secret.”

Hiram made a face of doubt. “I’m sure you have many more secrets.”

They shook their head. “No. Any other question you have, I’ll answer.”

Hiram studied their face for a minute, trying to think of a question that would test them, one that would pry, but he realized he did not care to know the scandals of their past. “If we live together—”

“When. We discussed this.”

“You didn’t seem to like my home very much. Dreary, I think was the word.”

Phaedrus confirmed, “It’s horrible, that gray little building. There’s certainly no more room for another body.”

“So where will we live?”

“I have an idea,” they said, “But I won’t tell you anything until it’s finalized.”

“That’s another secret.”

Phaedrus smiled. “It’s not a secret. It’s a surprise.”

“Would you mind if we took a longer way home?”

“Why?”

“I thought we could visit Susan.”

“Who is Susan?”

“Um…she cared for me when I was a child. I haven’t seen her in a while.”

“Oh.”

“I’d like you to meet her,” Hiram said, feeling bashful. “And we could pick up Ellen and the others while we’re there.”

“What’s a few more days?” the demon said.

The carriage stopped, and they glanced at each other. Mary came around and opened the door, saying, “It’s the border.”

Hiram nodded and reached for his suitcase. He had expected this would happen. “I’ll be out in a moment.”

Phaedrus reached over and undid the buckles on the suitcase and handed him the papers from the top. Every morning he had made sure he could access those papers with ease. He exited the carriage with papers in hand and tried not to look nervous.

Two bored-looking men in uniform waited for him, and he greeted them pleasantly.

“Is there anyone else in the carriage?” one asked.

Hiram nodded.

“Have them come out, too.”

“I’ve got all our papers here, though,” Hiram said.

“Would you like us to get them?”

“No, of course not, one moment,” Hiram said and took a few steps back. He opened the carriage door and said, “Can you come out?”

Phaedrus nodded, tightened their jacket around themself and exited the carriage. By now Hiram knew that this event could bring a level of scrutiny that would be painful for them. The demon drew themself up to their full height, their face losing some of its softness. Their hands gripped their jacket without any of their usual delicateness. Hiram had not noticed this behavior the first time they’d crossed the border.

The two men looked Phaedrus up and down; finally, one said, “Papers.”

Hiram handed them over.

The minutes seemed to stretch into eternity as they waited. One of the men read each paper, settled their eyes on the person it belonged to and asked a variety of confirmation questions. Hermes and Mary gave short answers, their eyes downcast and voices meek.

Hiram nearly forgot his own birthday when it was his turn and had to explain that the loss of his hand was recent, so it wouldn’t be noted in any of his travel papers. Each of the men looked at his stump, and he pointed out the newness of the scars there. They conceded the point and returned Hiram’s papers to him.

They called upon Phaedrus last.

“Name?” one asked.

“Phaedrus Queen,” they said, their voice flatter and deeper than it was normally.

The difference struck Hiram so badly that he had to look their way.

The creature did not meet his eyes.

“Date of birth?”

“January first, eighteen aught nine,” the demon answered.

“Why are you green?”

“Copper mines,” they answered. “It leeches into the water.”

“Place of birth?”

“Atacama. That’s in South America.”

The man turned his eyes back to the creature’s papers. The two guards leaned their heads together, whispering furiously. Finally, they handed back the papers and said, “Move along.”

Phaedrus turned on their heel and went back to the carriage; Hiram stayed a moment longer to thank the guards, then joined them. The creature sat stiffly, even once they had moved past the checkpoint. They had their papers clenched in their hand.

Hiram asked, “Do you want me to put those away?”

Without warning they threw their papers onto the floor, breathing hard through their nose.

Hiram picked the papers up and tucked them back into the suitcase. He then turned to face the demon and said, “We’ll have to go to get your papers fixed.”

The demon glanced his way.

“Since they say the wrong thing.”

They said nothing.

“But we’ll be home soon. We can get it taken care of.”

Their face crumpled and they put their arms around Hiram, burying their face in his neck. “I hate this.”

“I know you do,” he said, rubbing their back.

“Tell me it’s just nonsense, Hiram.”

“Of course, it is, Phaedrus,” he said. “It’s absolute rubbish.”

They tightened their arms around him. “I really hate it,” they said, tears in their voice.

Hiram kissed the side of their head and said, “I love you. I don’t know what else to tell you except that it’s a stupid thing you have to put up with and that I love you very much.”

The creature sniffled, and Hiram felt their tears soak into the collar of his shirt. Hiram had not fully understood the gravity of their situation until then; no one had even asked to know their gender, but the very act of pretending, of avoiding the question had been too much. He did not know what to do while they wept, so he hoped that holding them sufficed.

When they finally pulled away, their face was wet, and their eyes were red-rimmed. They wiped their face with their sleeve, and Hiram offered them a handkerchief.

“Thank you. You’re a love,” they said, taking it, and dabbing beneath their eyes. “I must look a mess.”

“You always look beautiful,” he said.

They laughed, though it was not particularly joyful. “Flatterer.” They wiped their nose. “I can’t wait to go home.”

Hiram glanced down, then said, “When June would say things like that, he always meant he wanted to go back to Heaven.”

“No, I’d have no place there now,” Phaedrus said.

“What was it like?”

“It’s…well, it’s hard to say. It’s…have you ever been to the beach?”

“Not really. I’ve been to ports.”

“You spent time at sea, though, didn’t you?”

He nodded.

“Heaven is like the sea. It is great and deep and there is nothing one body can do to disturb it. There is no time. Everything is all at once and never at all. But when it has its upheavals, they are…monstrously large.”

Hiram nodded. “I’ll never see it, though, will I?”

“No one really lives forever, Hiram. It will just be a very long time.”

“I meant…”

“Oh, not the, uh, the thing about not liking women,” Phaedrus said, waving a hand dismissively, “That’s got nothing to do with going to Heaven.”

Hiram recalled plenty of things that had told him otherwise, but he did not feel it was his place to argue with an angel, fallen or otherwise, on such matters.

“Never been to the beach,” Phaedrus said, “We’ll have to fix that. The next time it’s warm.”

“It’s never warm here.”

Phaedrus smiled. “And we can bring your niece, and everyone will gasp at what a strange family we are.”

“A family?”

“Of course. I am allowed to be part of your family, aren’t I?”

“I hope so. We’ll have to see if Cassie likes you.”

“That’s your niece’s grandmother, correct? Your brother’s mother?”

“Yes.”

“Do you think she won’t like me?”

“I’ve known her for my entire life, and I can’t tell you safely that she will. I’m not even sure if she likes me most of the time.”

“Oh?”

“Sometimes I wonder if she’s just…it sounds silly, but I think she feels bad for me. I was a nervous child, and my father didn’t appreciate that much.” Hiram shrugged. “If Cassie cares for me, then her heart is larger than I can comprehend, which it very well might be. Regardless of her feelings for me, she is a good woman.”

“I’ll have to settle for hoping she doesn’t disapprove.”

Hiram leaned against them, wondering if it could be as easy as that to become a family. To have Cassie glance the creature over and judge them instantly; she wouldn’t say anything, but she would turn to Hiram and pat his cheek or arm. At least, that would be the ideal scenario. She would never say anything openly disapproving, but he would know by the way she looked at the creature.