Days had passed, but Dawn was not aware of the shifting of night or day, hours or minutes. She hardly ate; she hardly slept. Nothing felt right, as she told her sister and Al. Nothing at all. Since the angel had touched her, she'd been unable to turn her mind to anything else. And what he'd said . . . oh what he'd said about the light, and he'd touched her hair! If their encounter had entailed much more than that, she didn't remember it, but that had been enough. All the meaning in the universe had been conveyed in his few words and searching eyes—eyes full of a sorrowful, otherworldly splendor she wanted to wrap around her weak human form. He was by far the most beautiful human being she'd ever seen. Daniel was so, so pure. Was it possible that he was all alone, like her? Because she was so alone in the worlds she created for herself. It seemed that no matter how often she convinced herself that the things she was obsessing over were secretly partaking in the intrigues she envisioned, they never admitted to knowing what she was talking about; in fact, more often than not, people thought she was a bit crazy. But Dawn wasn't crazy; she just saw the world for what it could be—a palace of elusive passageways and hidden rooms with jeweled walls. The others all felt in their hearts that that was what the world was, too—they just refused to believe it. How could anyone not confess that the world was really as magical as all the stories let on? Oh, people infuriated her. They were just in denial, but she wasn't one of them. Certainly not. Dawn Carroll was an honest human being; she knew the potential life had, and she was not going to accept mundane normality when starlight and angels and diamonds were within her grasp.

Her only disappointment was that she had not seen him since that night. She'd been back at the bar more than once ("at the risk of looking like a stalker," as Al had warned her and she had chosen to ignore), but he had not been there, and she'd received only cold stares from that one bartender that was always working—that woman with the black hair and all the piercings. No doubt she was in love with the angel, too . . . Dawn had thought that more than once. She wondered, in fact, why he was in existence at all! Wouldn't some fortunate girl have cherished him as her own by now? Unless . . . unless he was there for her—for Dawn. Immediately, her heart knew this was so. He was there for her, and she'd found him. Both of them had waited; both were so desperately in need of finding another who breathed the same breaths and whose hearts beat the same beats. This was why it had taken so long. All of Dawn's past heart-aches were now scars so tiny she'd need a microscope to see them, because all of them had been worth it if they'd prepared her for him. For Daniel, the angel, a striking unadulterated perfection caught in a world whose tangles were made to dismantle. She had to save him!

She had to save herself, too . . . for while her days were blessed with idyllic reveries, her nights had been fraught with dark images—lurid visions from which she awoke with an urgent sense of tragedy. But after telling Al of her dream about the gun and realizing he didn't quite understand (nobody ever understood!), she knew she'd have to keep them to herself. Each morning, when she awoke, it was only the thought of him that helped her overcome her depression and move her thoughts onto happier things.

The door buzzer shook her from her thoughts. Quite flustered and pink in the cheeks, Dawn rubbed her hands across her face to smooth her composure and brush any stray hairs out of her eyes. Up she sprang from her bed, where she'd been daydreaming, her heart beating like a little bird in her breast. Maybe it was him! He'd come to see her! He was here . . . at her door . . . because their thoughts were one; he knew she needed him at that precise moment, just as she knew he needed her . . .

It was her sister. "Oh. It's you," was all Dawn said, and then she turned away and let Eve follow her into the huge apartment.

"Are you angry with me?" Eve asked, quietly closing the door behind her.

Dawn looked at her sister. Eve was always so perfect. So charming and fine-featured. Why couldn't she be that way? No. She was big-boned and clumsy. She wished Eve hadn't come. "Me? No. Of course I'm not mad at you."

Eve smiled and took off her jacket. "I wanted to check on you. I haven't seen you in a while . . . and the last I heard, you didn't have a job."

Rolling her eyes, Dawn meandered into the living room and plopped down on the couch her last roommate had left behind. "What are you, my mom?"

"Speaking of mom, she wanted to know how you're doing."

"I'm perfect. Fine."

The levy broke. "No you're not. It's the middle of a Wednesday, and you're on the couch in your pajamas. What have you been doing for the past week or so? I have no idea, because you won't answer your phone when you see it's me. I know you've got some new love interest on your mind—Al told me—but you can't just sit around hoping Prince Charming will whisk you off your feet. You've got to make some money."

Dawn glanced at her sister, who stood in the middle of the room, in front of the television, holding her jacket in her arms, her dark eyes flashing with what she took to be condescension.

"Dawn, I don't know what's wrong, but you've got to pick yourself up or you'll be moving in with me! I know you don't want to, but you're not taking care of yourself."

"Oh shut up. I'm doing just fine. Why don't you leave me alone? You never understand what I'm going through. You don't ever believe me when I tell you it's all working out."

"Because—"

"And don't say that's because it never does! You always think I'm incapable of taking care of myself."

"Dawn, I—"

"And what about you, anyhow? Have you even talked to your own boyfriend lately? Because the last I heard from you it wasn't all roses."

"This isn't about me."

"Well why does it always have to be about me? I can take care of myself. You never understand!"

Guiltily, Eve sighed and sat down in a chair across from Dawn. The atmosphere lost some of its tension. They were sisters, after all. "I'm sorry. Dawn, I don't mean to be a second mother to you. But when was the last time you paid your rent on this apartment?"

She didn't want to answer at first. Leaning over, elbows on knees, eyes on the floor, pouting, Dawn at length replied, "Not since Alex and Samantha left."

Eve was quiet. "That was over two months ago."

"Was it that long ago? Ha. No wonder Mrs. Jones has been leaving me those mean messages."

"Oh, Dawn."

"I told her I owed it to her. She'll get it! I don't break promises."

"The world doesn't run on IOU's."

"Well why not?" Dawn became belligerent. "Why does everything have to be so complicated? Why can't it be the way it's supposed to be? Humans make everything so damn complicated." She pressed her forehead to her hands. "Look, Eve. I'm not worried about it."

"I am. When you first moved in here, mom and dad were against it, but they helped you find roommates. After they moved out, I helped you find Sam and Alex. But you've got to do it yourself this time. You need to find someone to share the rent with you, and you've got to get a job so you can start paying rent as well."

Dawn's sigh was so powerful it made the leaves of a nearby plant shudder. "Don't talk to me about jobs. I'm so sick of working! Why do I have to work? I don't want to."

"Nobody wants to. But if you don't, you won't be able to live here."

"Why not?"

"Because you won't be able to afford the place. You know I don't mind you living with me, but either way, you'll need to get work."

"I can't."

"Why?"

"Because the law firm won't write me a recommendation."

Eve was perturbed. "They won't?"

Dawn was quiet.

Her sister nodded, understanding. "I see. You mean you won't ask for one."

Dawn erupted into a paroxysm. "I can't! There is no way I am going back there. I couldn't bear running into Steven Hobbs. I just couldn't do it. And don't tell me I should call or email . . . he sometimes filters them! There's absolutely no way I can be in contact with that jerk. I can't stand him for lying to me. I just hate him for it. And now that I've found someone who can appreciate me for who I am, I'm leaving all of the past where it belongs—in the past. So don't tell me I need to go and beg for a reference, because there is no way on earth I am going near that place again, whether in person or by phone or mail. I just can't do it. I'm moving forward, now. No going back. If that means I need to start fresh, then so be it."

Time passed for a moment while the two women sat in contemplation. Then Eve crossed the room and sat next to her sister on the sofa. She put a hand on her shoulder. "I didn't mean to come over here and make you upset. I didn't. I'm just worried about you."

"Well don't be. I never ask for your worry."

"I know. But I feel it anyway. How are you doing on food? Have you been grocery shopping recently?"

"I don't know. I can't remember the last time I went to the grocery store."

"Do you want to go? We can pick you up some stuff. It's on me, this time. Not charity, Dawn—when you start working again you can take me out for some drinks or something."

Dawn perked up at the thought of going out for drinks; she could get Eve to go back to Burwin Tap with her! Al had taken on a negative attitude toward the place.

Eve didn't notice her sister's interest. "Do you want to get dressed?"

"Oh fine. Fine. If I go, will you let me take you for a drink this weekend?"

"Only if we get online and I help you search for a few jobs or post a roommate ad when we get back."

Dawn got up grumbling but went down the hall toward her room to change. When she reached her bedroom, she couldn't resist slamming her door, knowing Eve was a few rooms away probably rolling her eyes. Sometimes she passionately hated the childish person in her, but she just couldn't help herself when her sister was around. Eve brought out her petulance, and she resented her for it. Additionally, she resented herself for feeling resentment, which caused her to resent her sister even more! It was a vicious cycle. What was it about Eve that made her feel so inadequate? She'd grown up with her older sister always loving her more than she herself could love in return. There was something dark in Dawn . . . something that caused her pride to smart each time she saw her sister, even though she loved her sibling with a passion. But none of that mattered, she reminded herself as she pulled on some jeans, a bra, and a T-shirt. Tying her shoes, she noted that no matter what, she had something now that Eve didn't have. No one had it. Just her. She had a purpose, now. To save the angel from the world.

Heading back into the front of the apartment, Dawn noted Eve putting on her jacket. "Is it cold outside?"

Eve smiled. "Oh, yes, a bit chillier than it looks."

Determined to be braver than her sister, Dawn grabbed her purse and left her jacket in the closet. "I think I'll be fine."