Page 32

“How are we doing this?” I ask.

He looks up to me, arching his brow. “I thought we agreed on no talking during this activity.”

I shrug my shoulders. “I lied.”

“Exactly why most lawyers go to Hell. You all just lie,” he grumbles.

I squint my eyes at him. I don’t entertain his comment since there is no proof to suggest otherwise. I, myself, am a lawyer that was going to go to Hell until he intervened. Therefore, he may be right.

“My question still stands,” I say.

He lets out a deep sigh and tilts his head, motioning me to come closer. I step near him, and he shows me his phone. It’s a picture of a forty-year-old man with dirty, blonde hair and wrinkled lips that reveal he was an avid smoker during his life.

“The first soul is Robert Smith. He seems to be in Florida. Somewhere in the Tampa area. When I searched up his last known address before he died, I saw he used to live here twenty years ago. He may be just trying to go home to see family or friends, or something. He could simply have nowhere else to go. Let’s start at his house.”

I grin. “See, that wasn’t so hard to use your words to explain, right?”

He gives me a look. “This particular soul is in Hell for robbing banks.”

“I thought the souls that were released were tier three, meaning the worst of the worst,” I say.

“Yeah, he killed everyone in the bank without a second thought when the police had him surrounded, including children. So, twenty people died,” he informs me.

My eyebrows jump up in shock. “That will do it.”

Aiden places a hand on my back and guides me around the building. Once we are at the front, he points to a small yellow house that looks like it hasn’t been maintained in years. The grass is overgrown, the paint is chipped, and one of the windows is busted. The house is unlivable.

We walk up to the front door of the house, finding it ajar. Aiden pushes it all the way open. We walk in with him leading the way.

“Hello?” I yell out. Aiden stops and turns his head to look at me.

“You think a missing tier three soul is going to happily reply back?” he sarcastically asks.

I shrug. “It was worth a try.”

Aiden points to me then does a zipping motion over his mouth with the same hand. “Seen, not heard,” he states.

I roll my eyes. “Fine.” He nods, then faces forward. Our journey through the house resumes. It smells horrible. The furniture is dusty and moldy. We search through the whole house, but find no traces of Robert.

“I guess he is gone. Where should we look next?”

At the sound of creaking floorboards, I swivel my head around. Neither Aiden nor I moved at that moment, so we are not the cause of the noise. Aiden places his index finger on his lips and tilts his head to signal me to follow him. We walk quietly in the kitchen and he points under the sink.

I nod and mouth, ‘Okay’. I lean forward, placing my hand on the handle of the lower cabinet. I throw open the door and my eyebrows jump in surprise. I look at Aiden and say, “Wow. You’re good.”

He winks. “I know. I’m good at a lot of things.” I roll my eyes. We both turn to the soul who is staring at us. He somehow figured out a way to fit his huge frame in the lower cabinet. It is impressive.

“What do you want?” Robert yells, his eyes wide in fear.

“It’s time to go back.” Aiden informs him.

“And if I don’t?”

Aiden looks at me and rolls his eyes. “Why do people think they have a choice?”

I shrug. “I mean, it’s human nature to look for alternatives.” No one wants to voluntarily go back to Hell. That defeats the purpose of escaping. I certainly would rather be in Heaven right now.

Robert—who is still in the cabinet—crosses his arms, defiance written all over his face. “I’m not going. I’d like to see you try to take me. I don’t deserve to still be in Hell. It’s been years!”