I wanted time to grieve, time to really mourn the people we’d lost. I realized I would never truly be able to have that until this was over and Beelzebub was too busy trying to build up his power source (stolen souls) to come after me and my loved ones anymore. I wanted to hide. I wanted to dig out one of those oversized hoodies I used to wear, comb my hair over my face, and stay inside alone, but that wasn’t an option anymore. I was past that. I knew that wasn’t the answer. The only way I was going to truly get my life back, to truly have the time and space I desperately wanted to grieve, was to fight. So fight I would. Today was the day. Today was the day we were going into hell and I was going to find those souls no matter what it took. I owed it to myself and to my mother. My mother and I had a complicated relationship the final year of her life and the hurtful things she said to me before she died still rang in my ears. I probably wouldn’t ever forget the way she hurt me.
