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given by April, Tessa knew it would be hard to sit through without falling asleep. She opted for a late afternoon cup of coffee. It was cold and stale.

There were no other presentations at the same time, and the main conference room they’d started in that morning filled up with people again. This time, Gloria and Tessa sat near the front, sitting close to Lee Stuart.

Frantic movement caught her attention, and Tessa leaned forward to find Timothy a few seats down, smiling and waving to her. There was a big brown stain on the left breast pocket of his ill-fitting gray suit. “Hello, again.”

Tessa smiled and waved back.

“I hope you’re having a good time. For me, it’s all work, work, work.”

“It’s been interesting so far.”

He nodded energetically, before April tapped the microphone and began speaking, silencing the whole of the crowd. Timothy looked disappointed.

April started her talk by expressing her hope that everyone had enjoyed a day filled with learning and fun. “To close out the first day, we’re going to talk about accounting in the reaper business. It’s crucial that we be impeccable with our record-keeping.” She shuffled papers on the lectern in front of her and then adjusted the microphone. “If the numbers aren’t right, your branch may incur tremendous costs in hunting down the problem and making it right.” She looked out into the crowd, pinning someone with her gaze. Tessa craned her neck to see who.

It was Cynthia. The reaper from Chicago shrank in her chair as though trying to sink through the floor into oblivion as dozens of eyes landed on her.

Tessa felt sorry for the poor woman and made a mental note to invite her to dinner or something during the next few days of the conference time. It really seemed like she could use a friend or two.

April continued, showing slides that explained how reaper accounting was managed. Each agency got its assignments and did the associated reaping. If the two numbers didn’t match at the end of the month, there was a problem. It could happen either way—not enough souls were reaped as there were orders or more reaping had been done than was ordered.

Sometimes, it was a matter of lazy reporting, and the matter was easily reckoned. Other times, it wasn’t so simple. If an agency’s manager couldn’t find and reconcile the discrepancy within one month, the area’s supervisor was called in. After that, the district supervisor got involved. Eventually, the owner of the entire organization had to be consulted.

“And no one wants that,” April assured everyone in the room. “Mr. Blade has more than enough to occupy his time without such nonsense.”

Tessa wondered about the owner. She made a mental note to question Gloria about him.

April continued, droning on about accounting and staying accountable by maintaining impeccable records. “We all know the reaping is the exciting part and the paperwork is drudgery, but without it, our whole system falls apart. Some of you may think of this as just a job. But as far as I’m aware, ours is the only job with the fate of the universe at stake. All of this—” she gestured to the room, to the word outside— “would be destroyed if we truly lose a soul long-term. I hope that explains how important accounting is.”

Tessa’s hand shot into the air, surprising her. She hadn’t meant to ask a question, but her arm seemed to have a mind of its own.

April cast a cool stare at her and seemed to consider ignoring Tessa. But she sighed and said, “Yes?”

“What happens if someone dies whose death wasn’t ordered? How is it investigated and reconciled?” She was proud that her voice didn’t quaver. There was no hint of the trepidation she felt in her chest at speaking out in front of all those people.

“We have folks within our organization whose sole job it is to research those deaths and bring the accounting in-line,” April said flatly before turning back to point at the screen. “Now let’s talk about . . .”

But Tessa cut her off, shocking herself further. Loud and clear, she said, “What about Art’s death? Was his accounted for?”

Chapter 7

SLOWLY, APRIL TURNED around. A muscle in her jaw twitched as though she were clenching her teeth.

Tessa sat straighter, refusing to be intimidated.

Gloria gave a snort that sounded like a cross between awe and amusement.

“If you must know,” April said, “it was not accounted for.” Had her eyes been equipped with lasers, Tessa’s forehead would have a rather large hole through it. The look was obviously meant to shut down any further conversation.

Though she itched to ask more follow-up questions, Tessa heeded Gloria’s warning elbow jab and clamped her lips together. But April’s answer had started a murmuring among the reapers in the room. The supervisor’s gaze flitted around, and she held up a hand. “Please, everyone. There’s nothing to be concerned about. We already narrowed in on the problem, and we’ll have it straightened out soon. Now. If we could continue my talk . . .”

April went back to her presentation, clicking through slides and reading them verbatim off the screen. She’d lost her audience and her spirit. She ended rather abruptly a few minutes later and didn’t take any further questions, despite the last slide being labeled for Q & A. She stormed out of the room with Timothy trailing behind.

“I can’t believe you did that.” Gloria shook her head and giggled. “April looked fit to be tied.”

“I just don’t understand why she’s hush-hush about Art’s death. I mean, there are so many reapers here right now. Death is our business. And if one of our own goes unexpectedly . . . well, it’s a problem.”

“I agree with you there.”

“Surely, someone knows something about what happened or could help figure it out. I mean, if accounting is so important, why would April want to keep it a secret?”

Gloria shrugged. “Probably to try and prevent Lee Stuart from finding out about it.

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