When Damian got in the passenger seat of Steve's flying ambulance, the vehicle gradually departed from their parking spot at the edge of the magnificent floating city of Paradise. Through the windows, Damian could see the pink clouds begin to move as they took off. The city hovering in the clouds got smaller and smaller in the rear view mirror. Damian couldn't help but remember the first time he found himself in Steve's ambulance, which was a very different circumstance.

"Let me fill you in as soon as I line us up with the portal," said Steve as he pulled a lever on the right side of his steering wheel. The clouds all around them changed their shape in very peculiar ways as he turned his vehicle across the fifth dimension until they finally could make out the spherical wormhole. Now that Damian had been in his Heavenly Physics class for nearly a month, he had a much more elementary understanding of what was happening. With the fourth dimension being time, the fifth dimension was spirit. And in order to get back to the physical realm, they needed to travel through this spiritual dimension.

Their vehicle flew into the wormhole, and Steve began to tell Damian all the details on the case with Irene.

With a soft thud, the ambulance nestled into the grass in front of Irene's house, just as she was coming back from her grocery shopping that morning.

“Oh, and don't make the mistake I did,” added the angel while they were still seated in the car, “Don't mention Jesus or Christianity – those are trigger words.”

“Well yeah obviously those are trigger words, didn't you look up why she left the church?” said Damian, “Even I knew that and I was barely an acquaintance of hers last year.”

“Of course,” said Steve, “I was just being sloppy.”

Damian rolled his eyes. It was likely the same sloppiness that led to Damian's own death when the guardian angel was assigned to him. “You really ought to work on that,” said Damian, “People's lives are at stake here.”

The angel grimaced and nodded in agreement. After a moment of silence, he said, “On that note, let me give you this earpiece, that way I can help you respond if she asks you any questions you don't know.” Steve gave it to Damian, who inserted it in his ear.

“Thanks, and I just want to make sure I understand your objective here,” said Damian, “So you're not trying to get her to change her beliefs or anything like that at this point, but you just want to make sure she survives the month of November?”

“That is correct,” said the angel, “We can only do one step at a time, and she ought to have the whole rest of her life to continue her spiritual journey. But that won't happen if she dies now! I'll be waiting in the ambulance, with my microphone and speakers connected to your ear piece, so I'll be able to hear everything you hear.”

Damian floated in through the front door into Irene's home. The non-refrigerated groceries were left in their bags on the kitchen counter, and it looked like Irene had gone upstairs to her room. Damian went up the stairs and found her meditating in front of a small altar with some incense lit in front of her.

He approached her and tried to think of the best strategy to get her attention. He remembered that Steve had told him that creating a physical manifestation required a lot of energy, which he didn't have. But he noticed that he could generate a reflection in the mirror with just a little effort. Damian remembered that Irene's mother had spontaneously entered the room last time, so he nudged the bedroom door closed and locked it to prevent any other unwanted visitors.

Immediately, Irene turned around, staring at the door, noticing it had locked itself. The wind couldn't have done that. She quickly grabbed her magic wand and aimed it in front of her as she examined her bedroom.

Damian noticed there was a lamp right next to the mirror, so he put his hands over it to make it flicker, which got Irene to steadily move closer to it. When she saw Damian's image in the mirror, she gave out a short scream as she extended her wand at the reflection.

“Hey, I'm not trying to hurt you,” said Damian, somewhat wondering if a magic spell would bounce off of a mirror.

Without moving her wand, she turned her head to the right, since she could clearly hear Damian's voice coming from her right side. Then, she aimed her wand to where it looked like Damian was standing according to the mirror and turned her face back to his reflection. “Who are you?” asked Irene.

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Damian realized this caution was obviously because the last time she thought it was him, it turned out to be an evil spirit in disguise. “I saw what happened with my body from that evil spirit on Halloween,” said Damian, “But I promise it's really me this time!”

“Prove it,” said Irene.

“Ummm,” said Damian as he thought, “Let's see, the last memory I have of you before I died was probably at our high school graduation. I remember you ran up to me, and you wanted me to sign your yearbook. You mentioned something about wanting to hang out this summer before we went to college. I think in your yearbook, I wrote something about how it was nice having you as a friend in my Economics class.”

Irene slightly lowered her wand. “What about the Elm Street Cafe last summer?” she asked.

Damian thought about it for a few seconds. “Wait, that was you who I bumped into?” said Damian as he recollected the memory, “And then you bought me a pastry since my birthday had passed a week earlier? I'm sorry, I honestly didn't recognize you. I think you were wearing a new hat and had glasses on. I figured it was someone from school, but I couldn't quite figure it out...” His ghostly cheeks partially reddened as he looked downward.

“Oh yeah, I had lost my contacts while swimming at the beginning of summer so I had to wear glasses for a few months,” said Irene as she put her wand away. A huge grin sprung up on her face. “So it really is you!” she said as she tried to hug Damian, using the mirror for a reference.

Damian awkwardly received the hug, wondering if it can even be called a hug since there was no physical contact.

“I've missed you so much,” said Irene.

Damian didn't have the heart to tell her that he barely knew her. He remembered speaking with her less than a dozen times during all of high school.

“Hey, do you want to have a seat? I can move the mirror,” said Irene. Before Damian could answer, she already pulled out a chair in front of her bed and positioned the mirror on top of her desk. After Damian sat down, Irene asked, “So what's it like... to be dead? Does it hurt?”

“I mean obviously the car accident hurt, but at some point it just felt like I fell asleep and like I've been in a very long dream ever since,” said Damian.

“Wow, that's so interesting,” said Irene, her face in awe with her eyes wide open.

“The reason I came here was because there's an evil spirit who wants to take your life,” said Damian.

“Is it the same one from Halloween?” asked Irene, “Why would it want my life?”

“No, that one's being held captive,” said Damian as he tried to remember all the details that Steve had told him, “A spirit would want you to be killed because whenever a soul gets separated from its body, a bunch of energy gets generated, and these spirits can absorb it into themselves so they can become more powerful.”

“I guess that makes sense,” said Irene, “But why me in particular? Can't they all just hang out at hospice care?”

“That's not fast enough,” said Damian, “And younger victims generate more energy for them. And after Brittany's death last year and my death last month, you've been flagged as a very easy target to orchestrate your death, since you recently lost two very special people to you. Their goal would be to infect you with depression severe enough that you would take your own life. You've come to the attention of a very powerful spiritual ruler named Samael, who has gotten millions of people in the United States of America to unknowingly worship him. You might recognize him as Uncle Sam.”

“How did that happen?” asked Irene, “I mean, most people in America have been Christian.”

Damian answered, “Well, at first, he put the European settlers against the American Indians. And with the advanced European technology, countless Native American lives were lost, all functioning as a sacrifice to Uncle Sam. After the indigenous people's population dwindled, he's focused on creating division and violence between the different races in our country, which he has continued to do after the Civil War. But every November, in honor of Thanksgiving, he likes to target people with American Indian blood. And...”

“My great grandmother was Cherokee,” interjected Irene, “And so was Brittany's... which was how we became friends.” Irene's eyes teared up as she thought of her friend.

“Samael has many targets, but he has put a very high valued bounty on your soul. This means countless spirits will be coming to try to bring you down,” said Damian.

Irene nodded her head, her eyes blinking a few times in a row. “Okay, yeah that makes sense,” she said. She took a few deep breaths and a couple tears streamed down her cheeks.

“Yeah, it's a lot to take in,” said Damian, “But you're going to be protected.”

After a quiet moment, Irene snatched her wand and began to cast several protective spells around her bedroom. “I'll do the rest of the house in a bit. So are you sticking around here to help me?” asked Irene.

“I need to talk to someone really quick but I'll be back,” said Damian.

Irene picked up one of her spellbooks from her desk and started flipping through the white pages. “I know some pagan deities I can contact for help also,” she said.

“How do you know you can trust them?” asked Damian.

Irene stopped flipping through the pages for a second to look at where Damian would've been sitting in the chair and said, “They're feminist. They'd never harm a woman.”