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had returned his phone to his pocket after I called the ambulance. I thought I was doing him a favour. I am devastated. I gave him a conscience, which had put him in the mentally unstable state, but I also gave his phone back. It was his killer.  
    Wishing to be alone with him, I turned to the nurse. “It was not your fault.” I try to reassure her, not wishing to cause any more grief today. “Thank you for letting me know.” I look back at the kidnapper and sigh, allowing my shoulders to droop. “Do you mind if I have a few minutes alone with him.”
    I am confused. I need space to think before returning to base.  
    Thankfully she nods. “Of course.” She turns and leaves, closing the door behind her.  
    I stand over the body and study his face. Everything looks normal. Nothing looks weird or out of place. They warned us that people react differently to receiving a conscience, yet I didn’t expect this.  
    Did he really deserve to die as the outcome? He was far from innocent, but I struggled with the idea that a life was taken because a conscience was forced inside. He died instead of being guided and taught a conscience.  
    If the person given the conscience, doesn’t commit a crime too extreme, then what happens? Are they still unable to handle the guilt of what they did? They too would have the opportunity to kill themselves. What if the person was only doing these bad things because they are stuck in a bad place? I shake my head. They would be the type where the conscience would take over, giving them guilt beyond what they could handle.  
    The evil crimes are intolerable, but what if there was a better way. There has to be a better way. My eyes wander down his arm. I move the sheet and reveal the puncture marks that ended his life. I couldn’t shake the thought; he had good in him too. Doesn’t that make me a murderer? I thought angels were supposed to protect and teach love, not kill people.  
    I stumble over to the chair in the corner, and throw my head face first, into my hands. It doesn’t seem right. I shake my propped head. It just doesn’t seem right, I think again. There has got to be a better way.  
    The tears are rolling down my face. I should go, but I can’t get up. I can’t find the energy to go back to the base. Guilt and confusion have zapped the energy from my body. Despite this, I have to sort out my emotions before facing Archangel Michael again. He cannot see me with such turmoil.
    I don’t know how long I sit undisturbed in the dark room. I have lost all track of time. With my head planted in my hands, potential solutions run through my mind.  
    While sitting in my mummified state, I feel an atmospheric change within the room. I look up. Standing in the far corner is my favourite being in my new world.
    “Blue,” I say as I stand and throw my arms around him. I am so happy to see him. “Weren’t you sent to Paris?”
    He nods and wraps his arms around me. His warmth and comfort seep through the skin on his bare chest and I move in deeper, trying to get more. He wraps his royal blue wings to encircle both of us.
    “If you are meant to be in Paris, then what brings you here?” I look up, and the ocean greets me — his eyes are always so welcoming.  
    “You,” he answers. “You bring me here.”
    “What do you mean?” I ask puzzled. We are friends, nothing more.
    He releases me and steps back a little. He looks down at his waist and reaches down to a metal loop on his pants. My eyes follow his movement and fall upon the little charm I gave him and Yellow before we left base. For some reason, the angel in the middle with gold wings is glowing.  
    I watch it glow, then fade, and then glow, and then fade. It's impressive, but I don’t understand how it is happening. I look at my own charm. Nothing. It isn’t doing anything. “What’s happening?” I ask as I look at him confused.  
    “I placed an enchantment on the charm you gave me.” One edge of his mouth