Second Life Inc. was usually a chance for unfortunate souls at a second life, a chance to right their wrongs and fulfill their dreams and desires. But that was only if—and Talia couldn’t stress this enough—if the unfortunate soul had passed the test and proved themselves worthy of being sent back to their world and to awake from their stasis—or coma, like most of those worlds liked to call it.

Most people, as Talia would come to see, had led a mundane life. And their reason for being sent to the doorsteps of Second Life Inc. was even more dull than their boring lives.

Talia leaned on the arm of her chair, listening to the candidate with an attentive ear, judging his reason for a second chance.

… or pretending to look as attentive to his words as she could.

“Hmm. I see,” she drawled as he stopped talking, looking up at her expectantly from down the dais.

It was another of those weird and truly unfortunate ways for a soul to end up on her doorstep. A case of slipping and falling.

Those humans, really, couldn't they be more careful with their lives? The number of souls that had ended up here for the same exact reason was almost embarrassing.

Stop buying slippery sandals! She wanted to yell at them. Or better yet, put a giant cloud poster on Earth’s sky over a stadium at the pinnacle of the football season. That could lighten her load a little, just a little bit. Still, it would be enough to secure a vacation away from all this bustle.

“Tell me.” She glanced at the young man, a teenager really, with as much interest as she could muster, which to say, none. “Why do you believe yourself worthy of another chance?”

The teenager fidgeted under her stare. From the corner of her eyes, Talia could glimpse Aseel flailing his arms around. She glanced at him, a bit of irritation escaping her throat.

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“Be gentler,” he whispered, a bit of reproach in the slant of his brows. “You’re making him cry!”

She huffed. She looked back, and true enough, she could see a bit of moisture gathering at the corner of the teenager’s eyes.

She sighed. Fine. It wasn’t like she was getting anything in return for a job well done. Usually, only those suspected of contributing something meaningful to their worlds were allowed a second chance.

She stared down at the squirming human. From what she could see, this human had barely lived long enough to be offered a chance to prove himself. So, as all intelligent creatures weighted by the scale, his results were close to zero. By all rights, his application should be denied. But truth be told, she had no desire to spend the next years—or whatever long his lifespan lasted—listening to his cries and complaints.

She glanced at the list of candidates, wincing at the long list of names that awaited their trial.

Well, better get this over with. She wanted to get off work on time for once. She had had enough of cold dinners and hurried breakfasts. She wanted to have enough time to soak her wary bones in the bathtub and pamper herself with one of those bath bombs—the latest fad—she had purchased exclusively from Earth.

She forced a smile on her face. “You pass.” She passed the verdict, her seal of approval echoing loudly as it signed over his document.

“Really?” Aseel’s doubtful voice sounded next to her.

She shot him a look. “Either that, or you’ll be assigned as his handler.”

That sealed any argument her second-in-command had prepared. He hurried down the dais and ushered the teenager away to the portal where he would be sent home.

Talia slumped back in her chair, sighing. Were there no interesting tales to be heard? She longed for the time she would spend hours listening to the intricate tales of souls as they related what brought them to her door. Demon lords. Heroes. Politicians. Kings and queens. Generals who were more ambitious than they should have been.

“Bring the next soul,” she said to Aseel as he joined her in the hall.

They said dead men had the best tales. But if she heard another slip-and-fall story, she would personally destroy all the slippers on Earth.