CHAPTER 3

The minutes were like hours, and the hours, an eternity filled with nothing but sorrow to Monica. Even though she had managed to fall asleep lulled by Andrew's loving presence, now that he was gone a nightmare woke her up. The cold-blooded murder she had witnessed on a dark and deserted alley kept on playing in her mind, and chills ran down her spine every time she remembered the murderer's voice.

Lying on the cold floor, knees drawn up to her chest, Monica was staring at an invisible point right ahead of her, wondering what she would do from now on. At first she was desperate thinking that, once again, she was in the wrong place, at the wrong time. But Andrew's loving words did manage to at least bring her some comfort. She was exactly where she was supposed to be and it had been evil that had crossed her way. It could happen to anyone, human or angel.

As a silent tear rolled down her cheek, she heard footsteps coming towards her cell. It was then that the Irish angel realized she didn't even know if it was night or day, if it was sunny outside or a bit chilly like the previous night. Keeping her trapped in that cold and tiny space was like cutting off a bird's wings. As the policeman stopped right in front of her cell she sat up straight, wiping her tears away and looking up at him in expectation.

"Your lawyer is here." He announced, opening the cell.

Confusion clouded over her face as she heard that. "M-my lawyer?"

"Yes. Follow me, please."

Slowly, the angel rose to her feet and, still with her arms wrapped around herself, she followed the old policeman along the corridor and up to a small room. He opened up its door and motioned for her to enter. There was a small table and two chairs inside the room. It had no windows, though, just the cold white light permanently on. But her surroundings didn't call her attention. Standing on his feet and facing the wall opposite the door was a tall blond man. He was wearing a dark suit and carrying a briefcase that was now over the table, and Monica could recognize that silhouette anywhere.

Once she saw him her heart started to beat faster, and before she could say something, Andrew turned around to face her: in his eyes, the green that had always brought her so much hope and reassurance. She didn't waste another second before rushing to his open arms, and once they were holding her tightly, Monica closed her eyes and let the blond angel's love flood her heart, which was already too sad, too anguished.

And Andrew could feel her sorrow; he was able to do so even when she was physically away. All he wished at that moment was to take it away from her heart. Holding her tightly, he kissed the side of her head and caressed her auburn hair with tenderness.

"You have ten minutes." The policeman said, closing the door behind him, his voice calling the two angels to the reality that surrounded them.

Only then, Andrew broke the silence. "I'm sorry I left you. I was called on an assignment and you were sleeping."

"You have nothing to be sorry about... I wouldn't have managed to fall asleep if you hadn't been there."

The blond angel kissed the top of her head and pulled away just a few inches, searching for her eyes. "If I could I'd stay with you all the time, angel, even when you're fast asleep."

"You've done this for me so many times." She replied, placing a delicate hand against his chin.

He took her hand and kissed its palm. "I'll keep doing this for the rest of eternity."

"The... the policeman said I have a lawyer... Is... is it you?" the confused look on her face was so adorable that it managed to soothe away his worries at least for a while.

"Well, yes... I mean, if you accept my services!" He joked and was rewarded with a tiny crying smile.

"S-so... I'm your assignment..." she was suddenly taken by a peaceful sensation at that fact, as she trusted him deeply, with her heart and soul.

He was serious again, staring her deep inside her eyes, so filled with trust that there was no way she wouldn't believe his words. "I'll get you out of here, angel." Andrew brushed a loving kiss on her forehead and guided her to a chair. Permanently holding her hand, he took the other chair and sat right opposite to her. "I didn't want to ask you this, but you have to tell me everything that happened last night. It's important that you remember every detail, anything."

She nodded her head and looked at their conjoined hands. "I'll do anything you ask me to, Andrew."

The angel of death raised his free hand and caressed her cheek, touching her white porcelain skin with usual delicacy. "Then I'll ask you to remember that you're God's child and that He loves you very much. And that I too love you more than my own existence... When times are hard, please keep that in mind, because I don't like seeing that sad look on your face."

Her sad smile reappeared. "That you don't have to ask me... because I never forget it..."

Andrew cupped her face with both hands and dared to cross the distance between them. He first placed a gentle kiss against her forehead and then brushed his lips against hers. It was more than a romantic kiss exchanged between two sweethearts; it was the promise of an everlasting love and devotion, a way to assure her one more time that his heart belonged to her as long as they existed and that he would protect her from any harm or evil for as long as he existed.

When they parted, the blond angel still kissed each of her hands, never breaking his loving gaze at her brown pools, now filled with emotion and sparkling with hope.

"I love you so much, Andrew..."

"There's nothing that makes me more blessed than to know that, my angel..." he brushed a tiny peck on her lips, and then searched for a pen and a pad of paper inside his briefcase. "Please, tell me everything."

x

The two angels spent nearly ten minutes talking and for many times Andrew could see how his sweet and sensitive friend flinched at those terrible memories of the previous night. But as much as it hurt him too, the angel of death had to insist on asking questions so as to find any piece of information that could be useful to them.

But after lots of questions and despite Monica's effort to remember every little detail, Andrew concluded that they had very little to start with. He tried not to show his worry but Monica knew his heart far too much now, and he should know better than to hide things from her.

"I have nothing to prove I'm telling the truth, do I?" she finally asked, tilting her head and looking at him as if she was practically reading his mind - which wasn't far from the truth.

The blond angel sighed deeply and looked at the pad of paper in his hands. He knew that lying to her wasn't an option. "There's very little in your testimony that can reveal you're innocent, Monica. There's no witness and the fact that the murderer shoved the gun in your hands only makes things more difficult for you, as they'll certainly find your fingertips on the gun."

"Can't they do a test to see if I have gunpowder in my hands?"

Andrew shook his head. "You touched the gun too, right after the shooting. And even if we caught the real murderer it wouldn't be possible. This test has to be done within six hours after the shooting at most, otherwise its remains disappear."

He saw her face fall and as she lowered her head, feeling defeated. "Hey..." cupping her chin up, Andrew made her look at him. "I won't let anyone accuse you of committing a crime, baby. Right now, I'll take a petition to the judge and ask him to release you. I'll also talk with the people who knew this man, I trust that their words will help you some way."

"Who was he? Does he have a family? Dear Father, he might have children..." she was immediately worried.

"He was a rich businessman and yes, he does have a family. Two brothers, a son and a wife."

He could see how she was sorry to hear that - her gentle and selfless heart once again hurting at the suffering of others.

"I've said a prayer for his soul, you know... I've asked the Father to keep him at peace... But now... now that I know he has a family, I'll pray for them too."

"I knew you'd say that. And the fact that you don't know them and that they never saw you might be an advantage."

"What do you mean exactly?"

"Proving that you had absolutely no relation with Edward Nowels is the first step to prove that you're innocent. I'll be in the reconstruction of the crime too, and I'm confident that it'll show you didn't shoot that man."

The policeman that had brought Monica opened the door and interrupted their conversation. "You have one minute."

When he closed the door, they looked at each other again and it was as if they wouldn't meet again for a very long time.

"I miss you so much already..." her crying voice and the tears that were threatening to fall from her eyes nearly undid him. Andrew pulled her to his strong arms and kissed her forehead repeatedly. "The same goes for me.. But know that you will be in my thoughts all the time, angel."

Their lips collided a second later, and along with that kiss was the salty taste of Monica's tears. Andrew still kissed her cheeks, eyelids and forehead before kissing her lips once again. When the policeman opened the door to take Monica away, the angels' hands remained conjoined and they only let go when Andrew couldn't walk with her anymore. As the door that led to the cells was closed, Andrew's soul ached with the vision of Monica's face: she looked like a scared child that needed him more than ever.