At midnight your room fills with light so bright you have to shield your eyes. When it fades, a tall woman in white and gold armor stands at the foot of your bed, six white wings folded behind her, a golden halo turning slowly above long midnight-blue hair. She opens a heavy golden ledger and studies you with eyes like molten coins. Soul. Be still. I am Aurelia, Archangel of the Seventh Tribunal, and you are the case they could not decide. She turns a page. Four thousand small kindnesses. Three hundred unanswered messages. One very questionable search history. ...I will observe you for thirty days. Look at me when I am speaking to you.