Progressive Properties is aggressively taking over where small neighborhoods once flourished. Now Angelique's Shelter, St. Gabriel's, is under attack. Who shows up at her door to deliver the news? John McDougal, now a prominent property attorney, an...
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"Angel? Angel, you must get up."
Deep in the recess of her mind, she heard Gabriel's voice.
Where did angels end up after they died? She wondered.
"You're not dead," she heard him say, "but your shelter will meet its demise if you don't get up right now and do something about it."
Angelique sat up with a start. "What do you mean?" she said, looking around her. She was in her apartment. How did she get here? Startled, she looked behind her.
"Your wings aren't there, Angel. You had a moment where they appeared but you are still more human than an angel at present. You gave me quite a scare, you know. Lucky for you I am a master at saving fallen angels."
She smiled at him, then frowned.
"You said something was wrong at the shelter?"
"No, what I said is that your shelter will meet with its demise if you don't get a move on."
"Why? What's so special about today?"
Gabriel shook his head at her. "Your court appointment? For the shelter? It's today?"
"God, don't scare me like that," she said, flopping back onto her pillow. "That's not until next week," she told him as she rolled over to go back to sleep.
Gabriel huffed, rolled his eyes, and pulled the covers off of Angelique's sleepy form. "Angel?!"
"What?!" she asked, turning to look at him.
"It is next week. I know humans can have their life flash before their eyes in an instant but I'm afraid to alter the fabric of time and reality takes a little more than a minute or an hour."
Angelique jumped up from the bed, alarmed. "I disappeared for a week?!"
"Afraid so," Gabriel said. "Now get dressed before we miss your appointment."
"Oh, my God!" Angelique said as whipped through her closet for something to wear, completely opting out of showering or food.
"What must Father and Michael think I haven't been there to see them in a week? Is Father awake? Is he okay?" She asked as she pulled on her dress pants.
"And poor Rebecca and Saint, they must be out of their minds with worry for me. Who's been watching over the shelter and Heaven Sent?" she inquired, putting on her camisole and pulling on her white blouse.
Gabriel couldn't help but laugh at her. She was a whirlwind.
"Don't just stand there laughing!" she admonished, as she was hopping on one foot, trying to put on her shoe. "Tell me something useful for God's sake!"
"Okay," he said, "my first word of advice is take off that lacy thing you put on."
"Why?" Angelique asked. She always wore one under a blouse.
