THIRTY-ONE

I’D JUST LEFT THE SCHOOL when I got a text from Lance, the first one since high school. You’re some kind of prophet now? Seriously?! Go back to Boston.

Never mind that I never claimed that anything in the letter came from me.

It wasn’t his criticism that got to me. It was the disheartening feeling that most of Masonville would probably have the same reaction and hardly anyone would show up on Saturday.

I stopped for gas, feeling like every person at the station was staring at me. Had they just seen the news? A couple of truckers mumbled to each other —about me?

My tank filled, I started my bike and sat with the engine idling, contemplating my next move. It didn’t make any sense, strategically speaking, but in that moment, my only impulse was to go see my mother. She’d texted me earlier, inviting me over as soon as my plane landed, but I had yet to respond.

I showed up at my mom’s house unannounced and unlocked the door, trying not to gasp when I saw her, so pale and thin I hardly recognized her. She was lying on the sofa, shivering under a thick blanket, framed by her massive metal mess of chains and cords.

I lowered into the lounge chair across from her, no longer able to escape the realization that my mother was definitely dying. Any day now, from the look of things. No wonder I’d seen shreds of Creeper notes scattered on the stairs and infirmity plastered outside the front door. Dark forces were closing in on her.

She was barely able to lift the remote control and power off the TV.

“Owen. Thank you so much for stopping by.”

The kindness in her voice stung me. I’d hardly thought of her lately and hadn’t been willing to check up on her.

“There’s something I need to tell you.” She pulled her left hand out from under the blanket, revealing a modest-sized diamond ring. “Wayne asked me to marry him.”

I didn’t know Wayne, but I was sure she was in denial about the kind of man he was. My mom’s track record was one loser boyfriend after another. But she had an even bigger issue of denial. “Mom, your health . . . it doesn’t seem like now’s the time to —”

“Please, let me finish.”

I waited for her to collect her thoughts.

“I want you to go to the ring box that’s in the top of my closet.” She slid the diamond band off her finger. “Put this back in it.”

“Is it a green box, Mom?”

She looked surprised.

While posing as my father, that impostor spirit had mentioned a ring box —a green one —but he’d said my mom’s old wedding ring was in there: the one my dad had given her. It was easy enough to disprove —an irresponsible lie mixed with some truth. Evil’s go-to strategy, I was realizing.

“Why do you want me to put the ring away?” I asked her.

She teared up while laboring to extend her arm toward me. I came to her, kneeling on the floor beside her.

“Dr. Bradford is optimistic about my treatment, but I know I’m very ill, Owen. It’s more than that, though.” A tear ran down her sallow cheek. “I know you won’t like Wayne. And I’m not willing to choose him over you.” She put the ring in my palm and clasped my hand the best she could. “Let’s focus on us with the time I have left.”

My mother had never once put me above the men in her life. Ever.

“I’m so sorry, Son.”

I was stunned. It was the only time she’d apologized for anything.

I’d forgiven her the night I’d become a Light, but as time had passed and she didn’t improve or change, I’d become bitter all over again. Her apology meant a lot. More than she would ever know. “I forgive you, Mom.”

Our conversation was simple yet profound. I never would have guessed that it would trigger a spirit-realm reaction. But immediately, a chain slipped from my neck and slammed the hardwood by my knees. I saw it now, in plain view. Like ice melting in the sun, it vanished to nothing.

Hadn’t that fraudulent spirit told me there was no way to destroy my old baggage? Another lie exposed.

My mother formed a small smile while looking me over, as if every feature of mine made her happy. “It’s amazing,” she said. “The clarity that comes when death is near.”

Instantly, my throat throbbed. I didn’t want her to die, and she wasn’t ready —not with that shackle bound to her neck and soul.

I couldn’t afford to keep dodging the subject. “Mom, I know some things about your childhood and your parents. How they forced you to be a part of dark, horrible stuff.”

She looked away, her thoughtful smile gone, and mumbled to herself like I wasn’t even there. “Growing up in this house, I hated walking out that door with them at night.”

I couldn’t imagine what vile things she’d been made to witness, and maybe do, as a child growing up in the occult. I thought she might bring some stuff up, but she got quiet and tucked her arms back under the blanket. I sighed in relief, unsure I could have stomached hearing it.

“Mom, you already know evil is real. But the thing is, God’s real too, and he loves —”

Up came those slimy black scales, overtaking her pupils. “Not now, Owen.” Her eyes became solid black.

“Then when, Mom?” My voice cracked with raw emotion.

She groaned while rolling over on the sofa, turning her back to me. “Put the ring away.”

Our meaningful moment was over. The mom I’d known all my life was back.

I stood, defeated, and went to put the ring away. I was completely sure now that this scales-in-the-eyeballs deal had been happening in front of me all along —I just hadn’t had enough empathy for people to trigger my spiritual sight to perceive it until now.

I put the ring back in its box, then went back downstairs and asked her, “Do you still have your wedding ring from my dad?” She hadn’t asked me one thing about my trip to see him. It was completely odd, but that’s how she was, especially about him.

“No, Son. I left it when . . .”

When she left him.

I kissed her forehead and told her I’d be back soon.

At home, I sat on the floor in my living room. A few days ago, it had become a den of devils, but tonight, I hoped to have something good happen. Ray Anne had said I had seven chains with cuffs. One had fallen off when I’d forgiven my mother. Who else was I holding a grudge against?

Ethan came to mind. The mental image of his face was enough to make me pop my knuckles. It wasn’t okay with me that he was moving in on my girl. What a Bible-toting hypocrite. But knowing I’d done some hypocritical things too, I made the unnatural decision to let go of my growing hatred toward him. “I forgive Ethan.”

I waited, but nothing happened. I envisioned him again, and this time, suffered the agony of imagining telling him to his face. I spoke it out loud: “I forgive you, Ethan.”

A chain and open cuff hit the floor, then melted away.

Nice.

Who else? It didn’t take long . . .

Dr. Bradford. The ultimate manipulator. A misleading mix of cruelty and charm. I refused to believe he was a changed man, but if I wanted freedom from my chains, I had to find a way to release the hostility.

“Dr. Bradford, you’re an evil abuser that pretends to be all good and noble.” I took a deep breath. “I don’t trust you at all. But since I’m not your judge . . .” I admit, I hesitated. “I choose to forgive you.”

Another chain fell.

Next?

Ugh. My dad’s parents. “Together, you guys stole my father from me, and I’ve hated you for it.” I felt my cheeks start to radiate heat. “But I can’t live in the past, and you can’t stop me from knowing him now.” Another deep breath. “I forgive you both.”

Two chains fell to the carpet at once.

Even before they melted, I knew who was next. And I dreaded it.

Do I have to do this?

For a few minutes, I honestly considered the possibility that this one might be worth lugging around a chain for. But it was me who would carry the bondage, not him, so what good was that?

First, I vented . . .

“You spread rumors about me. Turned people against me. Nearly beat me to death. Physically forced yourself on Jess. Opened fire at my school and murdered ten innocent people. You shot Ray Anne and nearly killed her, too, and you took away her dream of having children. And Ashlyn . . . she’s stuck in a bed, comatose. I get that you were abused and suffering —I do —but instead of getting help, you took it out on other people.”

This was way harder than I’d thought it would be. “You don’t deserve any mercy.” I nearly stopped there. “But since I’m sure I don’t either . . .”

Can I do this?

Lord, help me.

“I forgive you, Dan.”

Maybe I only imagined it, but it seemed like that chain slammed the floor faster and harder than the others.

I was lighter now, not physically but on the inside, and I marveled at how our spiritual condition can have such a big impact on the way we feel. If only I could help people realize that.

I had one chain left.

Lance? I forgave him, but nothing fell off me.

Veronica? Nothing after her either.

I was still trying to figure it out when Ray Anne called, gasping between sniffles. “They’re taking Ashlyn off life support in the morning.” It felt like we got only bad news lately.

“I’m so sorry, Ray.”

Ashlyn would be released from her broken body, but where she was going was much, much worse. I was tempted to hate Dan all over again, but instead, I repeated the exercise. I forgive you, Dan.

“I’m gonna go see her in the morning,” Ray Anne cried into the phone, “but I can’t stay and watch her die.”

I told Ray I’d be there, but I’d leave before they unplugged her too. Witnessing Meagan meet a shackled soul’s fate was the most traumatizing experience of my life. I’d never willingly watch it happen again to anyone.

I figured I’d have a restless night, but when Custos knelt beside my bed, filling the atmosphere with an all-consuming sense of calm, I shielded my eyes with two pillows and got some sleep.

The next morning, Ray Anne stood next to me in the hallway, crying into a Kleenex while Ashlyn’s mother sobbed at her daughter’s bedside. There was a gruesome Creeper with its back against the ceiling, looking down at Ashlyn, no doubt anticipating pouncing on her soul.

Ethan approached us wearing green scrubs, on duty today, with another handful of tissues for Ray Anne. He actually acknowledged me by name. Maybe it was the whole forgiveness thing, but I wasn’t all that bothered by him today. Plus, under the circumstances, the issues between us weren’t that important.

Ashlyn’s mom told us we were welcome to say some final words and then exited the room. Ray Anne approached the bed, and Ethan and I stood back, giving her some space. Her light was enough to send that spying Creeper sinking upward into the ceiling tiles.

Despite the tubes and machines and Creeper webs, Ray Anne clung to Ashlyn’s hand and stroked her hair. The girl’s eyes were shut, and she practically looked dead already, but that didn’t stop Ray Anne. At first, she whispered, but before long, she got loud. “It’s not too late, Ashlyn. Listen to my voice —you can still cry out to God.” She kept pleading, over and over.

I wasn’t out to discourage her, but watching her beg uselessly was heartbreaking. “Ray, it’s too late. She can’t hear you.”

It took me off guard when Ethan rushed past me, leaning over the bed next to Ray Anne and speaking into Ashlyn’s ear. “It’s not too late, Ashlyn,” he pleaded. “You can still make a choice.”

And just like that, I had an unbearable, undeniable epiphany.

Honestly, I’d known it for a while but had tried to discredit it —worked night and day to smother the thought before it could get a word in. But seeing Ethan and Ray Anne together, so full of faith, fighting side by side for Ashlyn’s soul, there was no denying it anymore.

He was a much better fit for her than I was —Heaven’s response to her prayerful desire for a faith-filled soul mate.

With effortless eloquence, Ethan uttered a prayer that struck me as sincere. Selfless, even. Ray Anne said amen, then walked to me.

I was still lugging around one chain and two cords, but she hugged me and held me awhile. Still, I believed the honorable thing to do was release her to be with the man who deserved her most. Soon enough, I’d tell her.

“Thank you for being here, Owen.” She left the room, and after fiddling with one of Ashlyn’s monitors, so did Ethan.

I stood there, alone, suffering inside for Ashlyn and for myself, thinking about how tragic life can be and yet how precious. How vulnerable love can make us, how our deepest longing is to be loved —especially during our final days on earth.

I flinched when I heard a loud cracking sound, like metal buckling.

What . . . ?

Ashlyn’s shackle split in two, down the middle, breaking away from her throat and dropping onto her pillow. Immediately a golden glow appeared beneath the white sheet at the foot of her bed. And the Creeper webs around her bed gave way, drifting to the floor.

“Ashlyn!”

I leaned over her, but there was no sign of life. Her eyes were still closed, and her mouth hung half open like she wasn’t aware of her body, much less her surroundings. And yet her spirit had heard the truth and responded.

I turned fast and held on to the bed rail, when a radiant orb appeared right where I’d just been standing. It was as bright as a camera flash and expanding fast, quickly stretching from the ceiling to the floor.

A robed Watchman stepped out of the light. Like every one I’d ever seen, he appeared young, not one flaw on his face. He had to duck to stand in the room. Then came a smaller figure, a man shorter than me, clothed in a simple white garment. With a smile that seemed to make the room even brighter, he approached and stood on the other side of the bed, not acknowledging me at all.

“Ashlyn, honey.”

I recognized him now, from the framed photo next to Ashlyn’s bed.

I watched in awe as she sat up. Her body didn’t move, but her spirit did, with ease. “Daddy!” She threw her arms around his neck, and they both laughed with such elation, I couldn’t help but laugh too.

“I’ve come to bring you home.” Ashlyn’s dad took her hand, and she practically leaped out of the bed —out of her shattered body. She hugged her father again, and he spun her around. She gasped at the sight of the grinning Watchman, as awestruck and speechless as I’d been the first time I’d seen one. The heavenly warrior extended his arm toward the beaming passageway. “Come.”

Still clinging to her father, Ashlyn ran into the light, giggling and carefree. The Watchman followed, then the light shrank into a small orb and vanished.

The room seemed dim and empty. I stared down at Ashlyn —or her body, a vacant shell now, forced by technology to operate a little longer. Her mother entered, accompanied by a team of medical staff, ready to begin the process of disconnecting her. I had no right to try to console Ashlyn’s anguishing mother, but I had to say something.

“She’s already with her father.” That’s all I said, then I left.

Ray Anne stood in the hospital lobby, but I didn’t know if she was waiting for me or Ethan. When I told her what had happened, she laughed and cried and practically danced on top of the death dust. She was so happy that, while I walked with her across the parking lot to her car, she almost didn’t notice her cell ringing. I could only hear one side of the conversation.

“Hey, Jess!” Ray was clearly on an emotional high. “Yeah?”

Ray Anne stopped, her brow furrowed with worry. “What do you mean, Jackson is missing?”

All the color left her face. “Wait —why would your roommate take him without telling you?” Ray didn’t give Jess time to explain. “Who is she?”

Ray Anne was too distraught now to hold her cell to her ear. She turned to me with terrified eyes. “Jess’s roommate took Jackson.” She was breathing so hard, she could hardly get the words out. “It’s Veronica Snow.”