Forty
That afternoon, Michael stopped at Hillcrest Homes. Visual layers of angels and demons overlapped the physical building and interior. Many beings towered above the roof and trees—some heads obscured by clouds. Angels surrounded the nursing home in lines except for a couple gaps. Angels nodded as he walked into the building; all the demons glared.
Michael stuck his head into the open office door and knocked on the counter. The angel behind the receptionist leaned down and nodded, his arm across his chest.
Michael nodded slightly in return.
Photos of smiling, toothless children, strung together by blue and pink ribbons, swagged on the partial wall of the cubicle. Sparkly streamers drooped with a deflated balloon; the message on the balloon, "Happy Birthday, Grandma," was still visi
