Cael stopped.
"Were here".
Here? Where? As far as I could see we were still in this swirling black and white hallway. But this time I just stood there. Waiting to see what he was talking about.
Then a door popped again out who knows where. It didn't surprise me now.
He opened it and we passed through it. The air changed. The light changed. From the swirling hallway to an ordinary looking room. Not the fluorescent bright room from before. Just this warm ordinary room.
The first thing I heard was a voice and I almost skipped. In the middle of the room was a bed with a person in it.
I looked at Cael, my eyes asking but all he said was Case number blah blah.
I ignored him and gave my attention to the woman in the room. She still hadn't noticed us. I could hear her cry and somewhat it feels familiar. That kind of cry. The angry cry.
It's how you want to yell but can't. You don't want to cry but can't help the tears flow. The kind that something is lodged in your chest you wanted to shout at anyone just to let them know how angry you are.
Then she saw us.
She paused and stood. Her shoulders were stiff. Wiped her tears with the back of her hands. Her jaw was locked. Her eyes were bright the way eyes get when you've been crying but you refuse to admit it.
She looked like she had lived a life where she carried and gave everything. And had nothing left to give.
She didn't look at us. She looked past us. Like we were not there.
Her anger filled the space like smoke.
Cael looked at the woman and said, "Deceased it is time".
Without looking at us, the woman spat.
"I gave everything, my everything" she said, loud enough that it hurt my ears. "Money. Time. My health. My body. My youth. And yet it is still not enough."
She put both her hands in her face. I could hear her angry cry before she turned to me, looking but not really looking.
And you know what I got?" she said. "Silence. Not even a thank you."
Then she laughed hard. Sharp.
I was dying but no one cared. They took everything but no one looked back. They didn't notice I was falling apart. No one -
Then she yelled again, louder, like volume could force the sentence to finish.
Why! Why! Don't they notice me!
Cael, kept his distance. His face was blank in that tired way. Like he had seen this before. Like he expected it
Her grief echoed to me as if I were the one she was asking.
I didn't know what I was supposed to do.
I looked at him. He didn't look back.
So I did the only thing I knew how to do when someone was breaking in front of me.
I stayed.
The woman finally looked at us.
Her eyes landed on me first, then slid to Cael, then back to me.
"What is this?" she snapped. "Who are you?"
I was about to open my mouth and say, Hi? We are collectors actually. But no, I restrain myself. I didn't want to make her feel like I sidestepped her grief. So I did what I knew I should do.
I am Marisol.
The woman repeated my name as if she was testing it and looked up again and asked, "How about him?
"Ah, him…" I didn't really know how to introduce him when I heard him say, "The case handler"
The case handler, that fits him.
Cael tried again. "Deceased, it's time to go."
Her eyes flicked to my white clothes and she saw I didn't have pockets either.
Something ugly flashed across her face.
Then the anger came back.
"No," she said, voice rising again. "No. I'm not going anywhere."
I blinked. "What?"
"I'm not going," she repeated, louder. "I'm not moving on. I'm not crossing. I'm not—whatever this is. I'm not doing it."
Cael's jaw tightened. Just slightly. A muscle in his face moved like it didn't like being inconvenienced.
He didn't say anything. He just looked at me as if saying, "Do your thing."
I sat beside her and put my hands on her. I didn't say anything, I was just … there.
We were close enough that I could feel heat coming off her.
"I have been waiting," she said, each word like a slap. "I have been here and I have been waiting and nobody came. Nobody explained. Nobody—"
Her voice cracked. Just once. Like a crack in glass.
Then she pushed through it with anger again.
"Nobody told me I wasn't wrong to be angry," she said. "Not in life. Not in death."
It wasn't just anger. It wasn't just refusal. It was a plea in disguise.
She wanted someone to look at her and say, Yes. You can be angry. You have a reason.
She hated herself for needing permission.
She looked at me.
"You," she said. "Tell me. Tell me I'm wrong. Tell me I'm being dramatic. Tell me I should be grateful. Tell me I should have done more."
I felt my throat tighten.
Not because I was crying yet. Just because my body recognized that kind of anger. That kind of anger that lives on top of grief like a lid.
I didn't know how to answer or what I should say. Cael didn't brief me that I should prepare a speech. But I still do what I felt I should do.
So I said, plainly, "You weren't wrong."
The woman paused.
And I kept going, because if I stopped now, I wouldn't be able to finish.
"You weren't wrong," I repeated, slower. "You were just never seen. It's not too late. I see you."
Her mouth opened.
No sound came out.
Her anger flickered like a light losing power.
She blinked hard.
Then she put her hand to her face, a sound came out of her. She wasn't crying, she was sobbing.
Loud. Ugly but honest.
She tried to stifle her sobbing like she had done this too many times.
"I was there," she said into her palms, words breaking. "I was there every day. I did it. I did everything. I did everything and they didn't—"
She couldn't finish.
I wasn't trying to cry. I didn't want to cry. I was supposed to collect and crying was not in my job description. But that sobs made me want to cry too
Her shoulder touched mine.
She was shaking.
"I just wanted one person," she said, voice small now, voice that sounded like it belonged to someone younger. "One person to look at me and say I wasn't selfish for wanting help."
"I know," I said.
I said I know because it was true.
The woman made a sound like a laugh trying to turn into a sob again.
"I'm so tired," she whispered.
That did it.
My tears finally fell.
Not a pretty tear. Not a single tear rolling down a cheek like a movie.
I said. I wouldn't cry, but here I was still crying.
The woman leaned forward, forehead almost touching the ground, like she was bowing to something she didn't want to admit was real.
"I'm tired," she said again, softer. "I'm tired. I'm tired."
I didn't know her name. I didn't know her story details. I didn't know her family.
But I knew the shape of it.
I knew what it meant to be needed until you disappear.
Cael stood where he was, near the door, watching.
His face didn't change much. But his eyes were different. Not bored now. Not tired in the same way. More… confused.
Like he didn't understand what just happened.
The woman lifted her head.
Her eyes were swollen. Her face was wet. Her anger wasn't gone, but it was quieter now. Like it had finally been heard and it didn't need to shout as hard.
She looked at me. Really looked.
I just waited.
She nodded slowly, like she was making a decision inside herself.
Then she looked past me, toward somewhere I couldn't see.
The room felt like it held its breath.
A thin line appeared in the middle of the room, not exactly a door, but more of a crack in the wall.
She looked at Cael and asked. "Can I now go?"
Cael nodded and looked down at the file he was holding.
She took one step.
Then another. She passed through the crack.
And then she was gone.
Not dramatic. Not fireworks. Just… gone.
Cael's voice echoed in the room:
"Case closed, Deceased collected."
I looked at him with fresh tears and snot still in my face.
"Cael? Is crying necessary in collecting souls?"
He almost laughed. Then he returned to his normal tired self again.
Now, it's time for me to sigh.
As we walked back toward the door, the woman's last words stayed in my head.
I waited all this time just for someone to say I wasn't wrong.