Cora didnât have an answer to Milahâs question. In truth, she suspected this place was not functioning as it was intended. A better place did exist, after all, and Cora knew it was possible to get there. âUnfinished businessâ was what trapped them here. Trouble was, it was impossible to finish that business.Â
âMost of their deaths wereâŚtraumatic,â Cora said in a low voice. She glanced down at the glass now full of orange juice, and sighed. âThey canât rest, and Hades wonât let them try.â
As if there werenât enough reasons to hate the bastard. He found ways to torture them all, Cora knew it well enough, but he did seem to take special delight in tormenting her. Cora couldnât think what sheâd done to incur his wrath in particular. She didnât fight it anymore, however. It was deserved.Â
Cora kept her darker thoughts to herself while her companion argued with the bartender- Liam. Cora had never known her old traveling partner had a brother. The world was small. The afterlife even smaller.
Cora let Milah clink their glasses, and actually drank this time. Orange juice, however juvenile it seemed, was a delicacy to Coraâs mind. Always had been. It wasnât the same down here, nothing was. It had an almost ashen flavor- probably a result of using dead oranges to make- but it was still better than that alcoholic swill.Â
âI know itâs possible to move on,â Cora said, her voice dropping lower to a conspiratorial whisper. âThereâs a cave not far from town. It contains the bridge to heaven and hell. But heaven never opens.â
Milah shook her head. The part of her that had been a decent mother balked at the idea of children trapped here. It was that same part of her that kept her going through the job, even when the odd one or two would go missing. (She suspected the proprietor of the diner...) âA part of me hopes theyâre mostly lost boys from Neverland. But even still. Despite whatever they may have done, theyâre still just...babies.â
The weird banter she had with Liam had more or less kept her as sane as one could be down here, especially with souls as old as theirs.
(Of course, she still believed that if theyâd met while alive, they wouldnât have gotten along at all.)
She sipped her orange juice, accustomed to that slightly off-flavor, the alcohol from earlier quickly leaving her system.
Her eyes widened as she leaned forward. âItâs possible? Have you seen it?â She looked around, satisfied that everyone else seemed too wrapped up in their own misery to pay them any attention. âWhy wonât heaven open?â
