Halo by Alexandra Adornetto Page A

facing the sea. Even with the windows shut you could hear the sound of waves crashing over rocks. There was a narrow lacework balcony with a wicker chair and table that looked out over the sea where boats bobbed rhythmically on the water. I sat there for a while, highlighter in hand, my psychology textbook open in front of me on a page titled, “Galvanic Skin Response.”
    I desperately needed to keep my mind occupied, if for no other reason than to stop thinking about my encounters with Bryce Hamilton’s school captain. Everything seemed to stay with me—his piercing eyes and his tie slightly askew. Molly’s words kept echoing in my mind: I wouldn’t go for him if I were you. . . . He’s got baggage. But why was I so intrigued? As much as I wanted to shut him out of my mind, I couldn’t seem to. I would make myself think of other things, but before long there he was again, his face floating across the page I was trying to read, the image of a smooth hand wearing a plaited leather wristband cutting across my thoughts. I wondered what Emily had been like; what it felt like to lose someone you loved.
    I made a pretense of tidying my room before wandering down to the kitchen to offer Gabriel some help with dinner. He’d continued to surprise Ivy and me by throwing himself wholeheartedly into the task of cooking for us all. Part of his motivation was our well-being, but he also found the handling and preparation of food fascinating. Like music, it provided him with a creative outlet. When I walked in, he was standing at the white marble workbench, cleaning an assortment of mushrooms with a checked dish towel and occasionally frowning as he referred to a cookbook propped open on a metal stand. Soaking in a small bowl were what looked like pieces of black bark. Over his shoulder I read the title of the recipe: “Mushroom Risotto.” It looked ambitious for a beginner, but then I reminded myself that this was the Archangel Gabriel. He excelled at everything without needing to practice.
    “Hope you like mushrooms,” he said, seeing the curiosity in my face.
    “I guess we’re about to find out,” I replied, sitting down at the table. I liked watching Gabriel work and was always struck by the deftness and precision of his movements. Under his touch, ordinary things seemed transformed. The transition from angel to human had been much smoother for Gabe and Ivy; they seemed removed from the trivialities of life, but at the same time seemed to know exactly what they were doing. They were used to being able to sense each other in the Kingdom, a skill that had followed them on our mission. They found me much trickier to read and it worried them.
    “Would you like some tea?” I asked, wanting to make some kind of contribution. “Where’s Ivy?”
    She walked in just at that moment, wearing linen pants and a tank top, her hair damp from the shower. Already there was something different about my sister. She had lost some of her dreaminess, and there was a purpose in her face I hadn’t seen before. She seemed to have other things on her mind, because as soon as I’d poured the tea, she excused herself from our company. I’d also caught sight of her recently scribbling page upon page in a notebook.
    “Is Ivy okay?” I asked Gabriel once she’d gone.
    “She just wants to get things rolling,” he said. I didn’t know or ask exactly how Ivy planned to do this, but I was envious of her sense of purpose. When would I discover mine? When would I have the satisfaction of knowing I’d done something really worthwhile?
    “Get things rolling how?”
    “You know your sister’s never short on ideas. She’ll come up with something.” Was Gabriel being deliberately mysterious? Did he realize how much in the dark I felt?
    “What should I do?” I asked, hating the way I sounded so petulant.
    “That will come to you,” said my brother. “Give yourself some time.”
    “And in the meantime?”
    “Didn’t you say you wanted