“How did she die?” Wallace whispered.
“Ewing sarcoma. Tumors in the bones. She fought all the way until the end. They thought she was getting better. And maybe she was, at least for a little while. But it proved to be too much for her.” Wallace opened his eyes in time to see Hugo wipe his face as he sniffled. “She was here for six days. Her tea tasted like gingerbread. She said it was because her mother made the most beautiful gingerbread houses and castles. Gumdrop doors and cookie towers. Moats made of blue icing. She was … wonderful. Never angry, only curious. Children aren’t always as scared as adults are. Not of death.”
“What was her name?”
“Lea.”
“That’s pretty.”
“It is,” Hugo agreed. “She laughed a lot. Grandad liked her. We all did.”
And though he didn’t want to know, he asked, “What happened to her?”
Hugo hung his head. “Children are different. Their connections to life are stronger. They love with their whole hearts because they don’t know how else to be. Lea’s body had been ravaged for years. Toward the end, she never saw the outside of her hospital room. She told me about a sparrow that would come to the window almost every morning. It would stay there, watching her. It always came back. She wondered if she would have wings where she was going. I told her that she would have anything she wanted. And she looked at me, Wallace. She looked at me and said, ‘Not everything. Not yet.’ And I knew what she meant.”
“Her mother.”
Hugo said, “Part of them lingers because they burn so brightly in such a short amount of time. While I slept, Lea thought of her mother. And it somehow manifested itself to Nancy. She was hundreds of miles away.” His words took on a bitter twist. “I don’t know quite how she found us. But she came here, to this place, demanding that we give her back her daughter.” He looked stricken when he added, “She called the cops.”
“Oh no.”
Hugo sounded like he was choking. “They found nothing, of course. And when they learned what had happened to her daughter, they thought she was … well. That she’d just snapped. And who could blame her for that? None of them knew that Lea was right there, that she was shouting for her mother, that she was screaming. Lights shattered. Teacups broke. She said she wanted to go home. I tried to stop him. The Reaper. I tried to stop him when he grabbed her by the hand. I tried to stop him when he dragged her up the stairs. I tried to stop him as he forced her through the door. She didn’t want to go. She was begging. ‘Please don’t make me disappear.’”
Wallace’s skin turned to ice.
“The Reaper made her cross,” Hugo said, his bitterness a palpable thing. “The door slammed shut before I could get to her. And when I tried to open it again, it wouldn’t budge. It’d served its purpose, and there was no reason for it to open again. And oh, Wallace, I was so angry. The Reaper told me it was the right thing to do, that if we’d let it go on, then we ran the risk of only hurting both of them more. And more than that, it was what the Manager would want, what he told us we had to do. But I didn’t believe him. How could I? We aren’t supposed to force someone before they’re ready. That’s not our job. We’re here to make sure they see that life isn’t always about living. There are many parts to it, and it continues on, even after death. It’s beautiful, even when it hurts. Lea would’ve gotten there, I think. She would have understood.”
“What happened to him?” Wallace asked dully. “The Reaper.”
Hugo’s face hardened. “He screwed up. He’d never had the temperament I thought a Reaper needed, but what the hell did I know?” He shook his head. “He said that it was the only thing that could be done, and that in the end, I’d see that. But it only made me angrier. And then the Manager came.”
Wallace could see the bigger picture, slowly forming in front of him. “What is he?”
“A guardian of the doors,” Hugo said quietly. “A little god. One of the oldest beings in existence. Take your pick. Any will do. He says he’s order in chaos. He’s also a hard-ass who doesn’t like it when things upset his order. He came to the tea shop. The Reaper tried to excuse what he’d done. ‘Tell him, Hugo. Tell him that what I did was right, that it was necessary.’”
“Did you?” Wallace asked.
“No,” Hugo said, voice as cold as Wallace had ever heard it. “I didn’t. Because even though a Reaper is supposed to help a ferryman, it’s not up to them to force a person into something they’re not ready for. There is order, yes; the Manager thrives on it, but he also knows these things take time. One moment, the Reaper was standing next to me, begging to be heard, and all I could think about was how he sounded just like Lea. And then he was gone. Just … blinked out of existence. The Manager didn’t even lift a finger. I was shocked. Horrified. And the guilt I felt then, Wallace. It was overwhelming. I’d done this. It was my fault.”
“It wasn’t,” Wallace said, suddenly furious, though at what, he couldn’t be sure. “You did everything you could. You didn’t screw up, Hugo. He did.”
“Did he get what he deserved?”
Wallace blanched. “I…”
“The Manager said he did. He said that it was for the best. That death is a process, and anything that undermines that process is only a detriment.”
“Nancy doesn’t know, does she?”
“No,” Hugo whispered. “She doesn’t. She was oblivious to it all. She stayed in a hotel for weeks, coming here every day, though she spoke less and less. I think part of her knew that it wasn’t like it’d been before. Whatever she’d felt regarding Lea was gone because Lea was gone. There was a finality to it that she wasn’t prepared for. She’d convinced herself that her daughter’s death was a fluke. That somehow she was still here. She was right, in a way, until she wasn’t. And that light in her eyes, that same light I’d seen in Lea’s, began to sputter and die.”
“She’s still here,” Wallace said, though he didn’t know what that meant. The woman he’d seen appeared to be no different than he: a ghost.
“She is,” Hugo said. “She left for a few months, and I thought that was the end of it, that she’d somehow begin to heal. The Manager brought Mei, and I told myself it was for the best. I was busy learning about my new Reaper, trying to make sure she wasn’t like her predecessor. It took me a long time to trust her. Mei will tell you that I was a jerk at first, and that’s probably true. It was hard for me to trust someone like her again.”
“But you did.”
Hugo shrugged. “She earned it. She’s not like anyone else. She knows the importance of what we do, and she doesn’t take it for granted. But above all else, she’s kind. I don’t know if I can adequately explain how significant that is. This life isn’t an easy one. Day in and day out we’re surrounded by death. You either learn to live with it, or let it destroy you. My first Reaper didn’t get that. And people paid the price because of it, innocent people who didn’t deserve what happened to them.” He looked down at his hands, eyes dull in the dark. “Nancy came back. She rented an apartment in town, and most days, finds her way here. She doesn’t speak. She sits at the same table. She’s waiting, I think.”