Damned if there wasn’t a light, after all. Not that she was going to go into it. Damn bitch stole her body.

But it was hard, so hard. The light called, the light reached out with long tendrils. The light was warm and caressing and hopeful.

Maybe the light was heaven, and maybe it was something else. It didn’t matter. She wanted back in her body. She wasn’t ready to die. Not like this. But every time she battered away at her body, Lilith just looked out and laughed.

Angela wasn’t going to last much longer. The light…

Wait.

Angela’s soul felt a tiny tug from the opposite direction.

Simon saw her. Simon had managed to get a pen out of his pocket and scribble something on his wrist despite the cuffs… an anchorage.

God, she loved her man sometimes.

Simon felt it when Angela latched onto him, the same hitch in his heart he’d feel when they lay on the couch watching a movie, and he’d run his fingers through her hair, at peace because she was so near. He hoped she knew what she needed to do.

She did.