Epilogue Part III: Ruthies Bridge

I woke in a grassy field with Zuriel bending over me. When my eyes fluttered open he held out a hand. I took it, and when he helped me up I looked down at myself. My wings were healed, and I was now wearing a black dress that went midway down my calves.
Zuriel, I asked. Why am I wearing black?
He looked down at me, amusement in his eyes. Because you are the only angel who has died at the same exact moment as a dark angel.
So? What does that have to do with anything?
Zuriel looked around before looking back at me. It is one of the rarest types of being delivered to heaven. Typically, the spirit will rise on its own from its body, and will ascend to where we are now without assistance. Even if the spirit does receive assistance, it  has never been from a dark angel. Especially not a dark angel that died at the same exact moment. Thus, you are marked as an angel, but a very special angel.
There was a moment of silence.
Oh.
Well, come along Ruthie, we must be going, Zuriel said, heading off through the field.
I hurried to catch up. Where are we going?
Zuriel kept walking. To the palace of the Lord.
I nodded, falling silent as we walked along. I was about to ask why we weren't flying when Zuriel pointed at the huge building just down the hill.
There it is.
Wow, I said breathlessly.
I followed Zuriel as we walked through the huge gates. Just inside was a busy marketplace, where Zuriel picked me up to ensure I wouldn't get lost. We stood out in the sea of white, and when others saw us they parted to let us through. Eventually we made it to the entrance of the gigantic building, and when we walked in a short and portly angel looked up from where she was reading the paper at a desk in the entryway.
Why, hello, dear! You must be Ruthie Zarah.
I nodded.
She turned. Welcome back, Zuriel.
Thank you, ma'am, he said, bowing.
The Lord will see you now, you know the way I presume?
Zuriel nodded.
Off you go, then, she said with a smile.
Zuriel walked past the desk, nodding to a few angels as we moved through the halls. Eventually we reached two big doors, where there was a short line. None of them seemed mad or annoyed when the doors opened and a booming voice called, Welcome home, Ruthie Zarah and Zuriel Xavier. Please, enter.
Zuriel walked slowly in, and I lifted my head from where it had been resting on his shoulder.
In front of us stood the Good Lord Himself, and he was beaming.