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wasn’t directed at her. Even his words were defensive, protecting her instead of himself. He had been afraid for her when she was trying to comfort him. In the depths of his heartache and loss, the confusion of whatever he was going through, he had still been watching out for her.
    Nyra stared out the hospital window to the rushing street beyond. People drove past in cars and trucks, pedaled bicycles, and walked by the hospital as though the big white building didn’t exist. Was it easier for them to not think about the pain and suffering of the individuals within the walls because there was nothing they could do about it?
    A mother stood at a stoplight waiting for it to change. She held the hand of her young son as she talked to another woman pushing a stroller. Nyra’s heart slowed when the little boy worked his hand free and took a step toward the busy intersection. The mother gestured with her hand, unaware of her son’s danger.
    Nyra walked through the glass and hurried to the mother’s side. The women continued to talk, their attention on their conversation as the boy stepped down from the curb. Nyra didn’t know what to do. She couldn’t talk to the woman and there were no other angels present. A car was hurling toward the corner, intent on a right turn.
    Warn her .
    The prompting felt like a gentle pressure, freeing Nyra from her insubstantial state.
    “Look at your son,” Nyra whispered in the woman’s ear.
    The mother’s eyes widened and she spun around, looking frantically for her boy. “Matthew!” she cried. She grabbed his arm and pulled him back just as the car rushed around the corner.
    “Oh my goodness,” the mother said, checking her son over quickly. “I can’t believe I let you go.” She gathered him up in a hug. The little boy giggled, unaware of the danger he had been in.
    The other mother hugged them both. “That was so scary,” she exclaimed.
    “Never again,” the mother vowed. She gathered her son up in her arms and held him close as though she would never let him go again. “That was too close.”
    Nyra made her way slowly back to the hospital. It felt so good to feel a prompting again, to feel like she could make a difference. Even though the prompting hadn’t been toward Gregan, she had helped someone. Even Betsy’s continued presence in Gregan’s room couldn’t make her smile fade. Nyra stood near the window and watched the empty intersection, grateful no one had been hurt.

Chapter Thirteen
    DEATH
     
    He finished the rest of the list. When it was completed, he allowed Julia’s name to guide him to her. He found her in the ICU at the hospital on the other side of the city. Her daughter slept in a chair near her mother’s bed, her black hair disheveled and a teddy bear tucked under one arm. It still had a tag in its ear. Someone in the hospital must have taken pity on the little girl and brought her the gift.
    Death studied Julia’s monitors, wishing he knew how to read them.
    A little voice spoke beside him. “They told me she wasn’t going to make it,” the little girl said. “But I told them the man in black said he wouldn’t take her. He promised.”
    Death nodded and knelt down on the floor at her eye level, careful to keep just out of reach. “Did they believe you?” he asked gently.
    She shook her head, her eyes wide. A smile crossed her face. “But she made it through the surgery even though they said she wouldn’t. I heard the doctors talking. They said it was a miracle.” She winked at him. “They said it would be another miracle if she made it through the night. We’ll show them, won’t we?”
    Death smiled; he couldn’t help himself. Cold, hard, unfeeling Death was moved by the belief of a five year old. “What’s your name?” he asked.
    “Kenzie Mills.”
    “I’m glad you believed me.”
    She smiled and her whole face glowed.
    He rose. “I’ve got to go now.” She nodded and scooted her chair closer to her mother’s side. Her voice