The new apartment felt suffocating, even though it was massive. High ceilings, plush carpets, and floor-to-ceiling windows with a view of Chicago that most people would kill for. But no one cared. Not Bastian Webber, not Wyatt Goodwin, not his sons, Matt and Sean. They were trapped here, in a gilded cage of their own making, while outside, the world carried on like nothing had happened. But inside, everything was shattered.
Days had passed since they were pulled off the water. Days since the search parties had combed every inch of the lake, dragged the bottom, sent divers into the blackest depths. Days since the last whisper of hope had been extinguished. The rescue teams, at first so sure they'd find her, had stopped coming. Officially, they called off the search. Unofficially, they'd given up long before that.
Bastian sat in silence, staring out the window at nothing. His mind kept replaying those final moments: the way Anastasia Goodwin had disappeared, swallowed by the lake, and how helpless he had been, thrashing through the freezing water, shouting her name into the dark. He'd failed her. Failed the one thing he'd come back for.
And now… now she was gone. He couldn't feel her, couldn't sense her presence. No lingering emotions, no whispers in his mind. Nothing but an empty void where she once was. He'd lost her all over again, only this time, he knew there was no bringing her back.
Wyatt, always the strong, unbreakable leader, had spiraled into his own madness. He wasn't sitting idle. Couldn't. If he wasn't pacing the apartment, barking orders, he was out with other hunters, tearing through Chicago's demon underground. He wasn't looking for answers anymore—just blood. Every demon was a target. It didn't matter if they had anything to do with Anastasia's disappearance. Wyatt had become a man possessed, determined to kill every demon he could get his hands on. If he couldn't save his daughter, he'd at least make the creatures that took her life pay.
"Another one, last night," Matt muttered from the corner, eyes glued to his phone. "Wyatt and his team hit a den of them near the docks. Wiped them all out."
But Bastian didn't respond. The guilt gnawed at him, eating him alive. He was supposed to be the one protecting her, the angel who was meant to keep her safe. And now, what was he? A failure. A broken angel with nothing left.
The city felt like a blur. A week, maybe more. Time had stopped making sense. And somehow, without him even realizing it, he ended up at the Drake Hotel, a bottle in his hand, perched on the edge of the rooftop. The wind was biting, but it was nothing compared to the cold that had settled deep in his bones since that night.
Billy showed up out of nowhere. No surprise there. Billy always had a way of finding people when they didn't want to be found.
"You gonna jump or just sit there looking pretty?" Billy asked, leaning casually against the railing, his voice trying to cut through the weight of the silence.
Bastian snorted, taking another swig from the bottle. "Would it matter?"
His best friend didn't answer right away but decided to sit beside him, legs dangling over the side. The city lights flickered below, but up here, it felt like a different world. Quieter. More distant. Like it didn't care about anything that was going on.
For a while, they just sat in silence. Bastian didn't have the energy to speak, and Billy didn't push. Finally, Bastian broke the quiet.
"Why does this shit happen, Billy?" Bastian's voice was raw, broken. "Why does it always have to end like this? We're supposed to protect them. We're angels. Guardians. But we can't even save the ones we love."
Billy exhaled, staring out at the skyline. "Because the world doesn't care who or what we are. It's not about being an angel or a guardian. Down here, we're not invincible. We're just like them… in some ways."
Bastian's jaw tightened. "But I don't feel her. I can't sense her, Billy. She's gone. How does that even happen? I thought… I thought we were connected. Bonded."
Billy was quiet for a moment. When he spoke, his voice was softer, almost tired. "On Earth, it's different. The connection… it fades. The bond can weaken. Especially if—" He paused, glancing at Bastian. "—if she's really gone."
"Don't say that," Bastian growled, but his voice cracked, betraying him.
Billy sighed, leaning back, his hands gripping the edge of the ledge. "It's not like Heaven, Bastian. You know that. Down here, we wear out. Slowly, sure. But it happens. You were in that water for hours, right? A human would've died from hypothermia long before that. But you didn't. Not because you're invincible, but because we're tougher. Just… not invulnerable."
Bastian shook his head, his hands trembling. "I don't care about being tougher. I care about her."
Billy stared at him for a long moment, then looked back out at the city below. "I get it. Trust me, I do. But this is the deal. We're not immortal down here. You felt it, didn't you? The cold. The exhaustion. We can feel just as much as they do, but it's slower. It hits us later. And when it does… it's bad."
Bastian took a shaky breath, his mind spinning, every word digging deeper into the hole he was already in. "So what's the point, Billy? If we can't save them, if we lose the people we love just like anyone else, what's the point of staying? Why do we even bother?"
Billy didn't answer right away, but his gaze was sharp, searching Bastian's face. He wasn't offering comforting words because he knew there weren't any.
"What are you saying?" Billy asked carefully.
Bastian swallowed hard, staring out into the night. "If she's gone… really gone. Then what's keeping me here? I came back for her. That was it. Now…" His voice broke, the weight of his words heavy. "Maybe I should go back."
Billy's face tensed. "Go back? To Heaven?"
Bastian didn't answer. He didn't need to. The thought had been there for days, lingering at the edges of his mind, and now, with nothing left—no hope, no purpose—it felt like the only option left.
Billy sat up straighter, his eyes narrowing. "Bastian, don't do this. Don't you dare give up on her. Not yet."
But Bastian wasn't listening anymore. The weight of it all pressed down, suffocating him. Without Anastasia, without the bond they'd shared, there was nothing anchoring him to this world.
As the wind howled around them, Bastian glanced at Billy, his expression unreadable. "I'll think about it," he muttered, but even as the words left his mouth, he knew it was more than that. He'd already made up his mind.
And with that, he stood up, wobbling slightly on the ledge as he glanced down at the streets far below, the lights of the city swirling like ghosts in the fog.
Billy's voice was quiet but firm, his words cutting through the chaos in Bastian's head. "If you leave, you're not just giving up on her—you're giving up on everything. Think long and hard about that before you make your move."
Bastian nodded, not looking back. And as he turned and walked away from the edge, a new resolve burned within him. But whether that resolve would lead him to stay and fight—or leave everything behind—he wasn't sure yet.