Page 64 of Touched By Darkness

A table that’s set up with countless plates of fruits. No humans in sight.

Dmitriy is here too, eyeing the fruit like it’s poisonous.

As I take hesitant steps closer, Amenadiel lowers his newspaper, folds it, then puts it down softly on the table, as if every movement is carefully planned out. “Did you sleep well?”

I draw to a halt. “What’s this?”

His dark eyes glint with amusement. “I once lived in Heaven, remember? I know you miss fruit.”

Dmitriy pulls a face, less than impressed by what’s on offer at the table.

“Take a seat.”

After making my way over, I slide a chair out and plop down, eyeing the ripe strawberries and slices of melon. My stomach rumbles on cue, which is strange since I don’t hunger like that.

“You eat this stuff in Heaven?” Dmitriy asks, sounding skeptical.

“Dariana used to eat the strawberries in her gin. Are you trying to tell me you’ve never tasted fruit before?”

The look Dmitriy levels me with makes me suppress a laugh. “Do I look like I drink gin?”

“Maybe not.”

Amenadiel sips his coffee while I reach for the plate of strawberries, spending the next few suffocating moments piling my plate full.

“Did you visit me in my dream last night?” I ask, straight to the point.

Amenadiel chokes on his coffee.

It wasn’t the reaction I expected. And when he stops coughing and levels me with a confused look, the tips of my ears heat.

“What are you talking about?”

“Nothing,” I rush out. “I just thought… since the veil is still open. How do I close it?”

“What makes you think the veil is open?”

I bite into a strawberry while avoiding Dmitriy’s curious eyes. “You once told me the veil tears when an angel walks out of Eden—that it creates a big enough shift. There’s also the fact that you walked through the veil and into this reality, remember?”

Placing his cup down on the table, he wipes his mouth with a tissue. “I haven’t forgotten, but to ease your mind, the veil is closed.”

“Is it? How?”

“Wait a minute. This shit makes no sense,” Dmitriy says, rubbing the space between his eyebrows. “If you walked out through the veil and into this reality, then where is the other version of you? I don’t see two of my fathers walking around.”

Amenadiel simply snorts. “I disposed of him.”

Silence falls on the room, dragging on as the minutes tick by.

“You killed yourself?” I ask.

“I didn’t kill myself,” he corrects. “I killed the other version of me.”

Dmitriy and I blink at him, unable to grasp this new information.

“You killed my dad?”

“I am your dad.”

---