"I have something to show you, Olivia," Lucifer stated. I could feel him willing me to say yes.

At last, I looked up. Lucifer was so beautiful; I thought my heart would cease to beat. "Why? Why do you want to show me anything at all?"

"I need you to understand why I did what I did."

I scoffed, "I know why you did it. It is your 'job' and your pleasure to exact 'punishment.'"

He loomed over me. "Did it look like I was enjoying my job, Olivia?"

I recalled his face. He had looked angry, fierce, and an array of other emotions, but pleasure was not among them. "No," I had to admit.

"Then I have something to show you," he held out his hand again, insistent. "Give me this."

I stared at it, trying to decide if I would go with him or not. A part of me desperately wanted to take it.

I lifted my eyes to his once more and said, "No. I can't do this."

He swallowed and clenched his jaw, perhaps to ward off tears of his own. I didn't care. "Olivia..."

"No," I whispered as I turned away, not able to muster more volume. I shook my head. "I can't. It's too much."

He reached toward me, imploring. "You must. Unless you want to be separated from Deirdre forever."

I hung my head, "I can't. Please go." I hid my face in my hands.

With his snap, and the portal opened. His feet turned away.

I looked up. "Lucifer?"

He stopped but didn't turn around.

I spoke to his back. "I will never fulfill this contract."

He coughed, and he swallowed again. "I will do what I can for Deirdre."

He stepped forward, and he left me alone in the deafening silence.

I wandered through the apartment to the door halfway down the hall. I stood in front of it with my hand on the handle. My mother had come while I was away and cleaned, putting what belonged to Deirdre back in her room. I'd refused to go in, until now.

I turned the knob and flipped on the light. It was like she never left. I surveyed the walls covered in pictures of us, selfies taken in every imaginable place. Mom had done her job well; the room was immaculate, though Deirdre had been a tidy kid, so it seemed like she was still there. It even smelled like her. I sat on the bed and gathered a pillow in my arms to cry.

His portal opened again. Without looking up, I declared, "You can't come in."

He held his hand to me again through the portal. "I want you to come with me, Olivia. I do not want this to end this way. Please?" he begged.

I stared at his manicured fingers again, and the desperation in his voice cracked in my aching chest. When I looked at his face, I could see lines that weren't there moments before. He was weary and aged.

I did something I rarely did: I changed my mind. I struggled to stand, my legs wobbly, but I took his hand in mine. My heart pounded, and I heard my blood in my ears.

"Thank you," he breathed, the tension in his body relaxing, and he pulled me through to his outer office. He created another portal, and through it, I found Hope's apartment. In it, there were more boxes than I could count, with a bright, bluish light shining from inside.

The apartment was bright from them, even in the noon sunlight. A curio cabinet was full of unique, handcrafted boxes, while she had scattered others around the apartment. I even saw light spilling out from under her closet door.

"Why are all the boxes glowing?"

"This is why I wanted her soul so badly, Olivia." He reached for the nearest box, a plain cardboard gift box about six inches on a side. He pulled the lid off and poured.

A young woman, barely out of her teens, formed. She looked around. "Where am I?"

Lucifer was gentle. "You are on your way home, Rachel. I will help you get there," he said.

She gazed at him wide-eyed. "Are—are you an angel?"

"Of a sort. I will send you to Him." He flicked his wrist with a snap, and a portal opened. An even brighter light poured out. I squinted and shielded my eyes.

"Go toward the light, Rachael. Go home."

Fascinated by whatever she saw, she followed his direction. Once through, the portal closed.

I blinked, my eyes attempting to readjust. "What was Hope going to do with all these souls?"

"You know what she would do, eventually, Olivia."

I looked around, nauseous at what I now understood. "All of them?"

"All of them," he assured me. "I have another I want you to see." He opened the curio cabinet and took out the most ornate of the boxes. He raised the lid, knelt, and gently poured the light directly onto the floor.

It reformed into an infant.

I gasped, and my heart skipped a beat. My stomach churned, and I fought to keep from vomiting again. "She would shatter a baby?"

"Not would, Olivia, but has." He looked at me, tears in his eyes, "She was saving this one for the day she needed a soul but could not harvest one easily. An emergency soul." He gathered the child into his arms. "She needed more and more as time passed. Until today, until you stopped her, Olivia, she was at a rate of about one soul a week."

The infant squirmed, and I stared, speechless.

"She will pay as she paid today for each soul she has shattered," he stated matter-of-factly. "I find it a fair and fitting punishment."

I nodded slowly, reluctant but agreeing nonetheless. "It is a terrible reckoning, though."

"It was a horrible thing she did, Olivia. Tit for tat." He stepped closer to me. "I know I said I enjoy punishing souls that deserve it, and usually I do. But this time? This time, it wracks me with guilt; she would not be corrupt if I had not let her out of the box."

I heard what he said, but it only half registered. I was still staring at the infant in his arms. I couldn't fathom being the kind of person who could shatter such a soul.

The baby began to cry. "I have to go, Olivia. If you still hate me, I understand. But I wanted the chance to explain."

He fire-snapped a portal, and there were rolling green hills stretching to the horizon through it. Just inside was a woman in tears, reaching for the baby. He stepped into it and handed the baby over to her before the portal closed.

I craved to do something. But I didn't know what. I was afraid to release the souls because I had no idea if I could help afterward. I eyed her body near the hall and wondered if Lucifer would do something with it. I was at a loss. So, I did the only things I knew to do: I picked up the briefcase meant for Shawna, surveyed the place and its collection of glowing vessels once more, then headed out the door.

When I finally settled into the back of the car, mere minutes had passed. The events of the morning rattle around in my head, smacking together like billiard balls on a pool table. The cue ball? The ferocious look on Lucifer's face as he shattered Hope's soul.

He was correct; there was no pleasure in it for him. I found myself as relieved, but also horrified, by the realization he would do it at all.

Honestly, what had I expected? He never lied to me; in fact, he made it clear this was what he did. And he wanted those souls badly. But now, I understood what I had read as greed was something else. Need, perhaps? Maybe even a desire to do good in the world? Or, maybe he was making the most of a terrible situation?

If I was wrong about seeing simplistic selfishness, I was probably wrong about other things; it was conceivable that the smugness wasn't about merely getting what he wanted or about hunger to do his job. No, things were much more complex. Even Lucifer himself was much more profound than what others saw on the surface. This was the case on my part.

I'd discounted him as an individual and had, like most people, reduced him to only perceptions of punisher and deal-maker. I wondered where I had learned to carry those ideas and if I believed them because they were true or if I believed them because they had taught me to do so. Who instructed me in the first place and why?

I thought about all these things as the car took me to Shawna's law firm, trying to make sense of my experience. The biggest question which remained was whether I would continue. If I didn't, I sealed my fate, and I would never see Deirdre again.

I set my jaw. I will see this through. I have no choice.

I felt better after a meal. Shawna had dug into the papers I'd brought and ate while she worked.

"What case are you working on?" I asked, trying to distract her into taking a break. She always worked too much for a big case.

"The Johnson case," she said, turning the page. She'd already set aside her tofu with ginger sauce. I shuddered to think how much nastier the dish would be cold.

"New case?" I asked around a mouthful of my beef with broccoli.

"No, same one," she replied.

"Wait." I swallowed. "You've taken the child sex trafficking case?"

"Shh!" she said, finally looking at me, then glancing around as if someone could have heard. "We don't use language like that here. Call it 'The Johnson Case.' Innocent until proven guilty, remember?"

Her acceptance shocked me. "I—I can't believe you took the case, Shawna!" I lowered my voice and stage-whispered, "You said he was guilty!"

"Yeah, well, I want to make partner," she said in a whisper of her own, punctuating her words with her chopsticks.

"But at what cost?"

She narrowed her eyes at me, "It was this or make a deal with the Devil, Olivia."

It took me a heartbeat to realize she was speaking metaphorically. I leaned back in my chair, lunch forgotten. "Seems like you've already made one, Shawna."

She glared at me, then turned back to the file she was reading. "If you don't like it, you can go," she said, dismissing me.

I calmly packed up the remaining lunch I wouldn't eat, trying to give her time to apologize. She didn't. I turned to go.

"Shit!" I heard her say under her breath.

"What?"

She looked around for prying eyes and ears. "This file indicates a crooked cop."

"Yeah? You expected greater things from him?"

She scowled. "Look, Olivia, I don't need this from you. What I need is some support." She slid a picture toward me. "That's the cop."

I glanced at it, and she snatched it back. She knew she was taking a risk by talking to me.

"I don't understand. You've dealt with crooked cops before," I pointed out.

I could see tears forming in her eyes. "Yeah, but I've never dated one before."

"What?" I exclaimed. I wished I had gotten a better look at him; I had only met him in person once, just in passing.

"He's the dirty cop!" She reached for some tissue conveniently kept on the table.

I leaned toward her. "Shawna! You've got to break up with him!"

"How? We're getting along amazingly well. If I suddenly break up with him and he suspects I know..."

"You've got to recuse yourself!" I argued again, voice low.

"I can't, Olivia! No win, no partner!"

"You're willing to not only throw every shred of moral decency you have away but break the law, too," I hissed, "to make partner? When there are a dozen other firms which would take you in a heartbeat?"

"Olivia, if it gets around I quit a case because I felt my client was guilty, I'd never work in this city again! You don't understand." She dabbed at her eyes, soaking up the tears.

"You're right, Shawna. I don't understand. I never realized this was the person you were."

"Don't hate me for doing my job, Olivia."

I'd heard it twice in one day, and I'd had enough. I did just as I'd done before: I walked out the door.