I felt it the minute the thought came to his head. He was going to disappear on me. I could just summon him back, but he was not getting away that easily. I grabbed his arm before he could go.

He tried to pull out of my grip, but I held fast and asked, “What are you talking about?”

He suddenly seemed embarrassed, as though he’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. It took him a long time to talk, but I waited, rather impatiently, refusing to let him off the hook.

“My middle name is Angel. Her son’s first name was Angel, and we both had the same last name: Garza. We took that as a sign that we were supposed to be brothers. I loved him more than anyone. I lived at the home with all the other outcasts.” When he looked at me, the pain in his eyes swallowed me whole. “With all the other kids whose parents didn’t want them. Mrs. Garza was always so nice to me. We’d pretend that she was my mom, too. I loved being at his house. I loved that she looked at me like I was any other kid. Not like a kid from the home.” He turned away again. “How do you think she would look at me if she knew I was the kid who killed her son?”

Despite my determination to hold my reactions at bay, I gasped. Evangeline wanted to ask me what was happening, but she knew enough to keep quiet for the moment.

“Angel, what happened that night?”

He stuffed his hands into his pockets. “We got in a fight with a group of neighborhood kids over some ice cream bars. Angel, the other Angel, wanted to scare them. He stole his mom’s car and the gun she had under her mattress and we went looking for them. I drove. I was a better driver than he was. When we found them, he started shooting, but there were kids there. Little kids. I told him to stop, but he wouldn’t. Or maybe he didn’t hear me. He wasn’t really trying to hit them. He just wanted to scare them, but I was worried he would accidentally shoot a kid. So I wrecked the car on purpose.”

I stepped to him and touched the wound on his chest. “This is a gunshot wound,” I said, trying to understand. He’d told me years ago they’d struggled for the gun and it went off. He never told me the other kid died as well. He’d definitely never told me he was the other kid.

“No. I flew out of the car and landed on something sharp, like rebar. But Angel died, too. I didn’t think it would be that bad. I just thought the crash would bruise us up or something. But I killed us both. I killed my brother.”

“Is he still here, like you?”

“No. Angel crossed the minute he died. Went straight to heaven. I watched him go, and I figured I’d go to hell for killing him, but I never did. I was just there. I was so lost and alone until you came along.”

I covered my mouth with a shaking hand. “Angel.”

“And then I thought I could make it up to his mom. I figured, when you offered me a job, that I could help her out.”

“So, all the aunts and uncles and cousins you tell me about?”

“They were his. Not mine. I never had anyone. I just wanted to make it up to her. To all of them.”

My heart broke into a million tiny pieces. He died trying to do the right thing, and the guilt had been eating him alive all this time. “What is your real first name?”

“Juan. Juanito Ahn-hell Garza. Angel.”

I pulled him into my arms. He didn’t want me to. He didn’t want my forgiveness. But after a moment, he broke down and cried into my hair, his shoulders shaking softly.

* * *

Together, we told Evangeline the truth.

“Your son is in heaven, where he should be,” I told her, worried she would resent my making such a bold statement when she’d only wanted to talk to him.

But she didn’t take the slightest bit of offense. Her face brightened after a moment. “Please tell him that I never blamed him. I knew my son, Juanito,” she said, her eyes bright with emotion. “Don’t you ever feel like that was your fault. We know what you did. We know you were trying to do the right thing.”

Angel put a hand over his eyes.

“Angel?” I said. “Is there anything you want to say to her?”

“I always wished she was my mom.”

I delivered the message to a tearful and overjoyed acceptance. “And I always wished you were my son,” she said.

If ever there was a time I wished a departed could touch the living, it was now. They both could use a hug. I did the next best thing and pulled them both into my arms.

* * *

“I came here for a reason,” Angel said after Evangeline left.

Even after everything, I got the impression he was still embarrassed. “Do you still want me to call you Angel?” I asked.

He nodded. “I was going by Angel, too, before I died.”

“Okay. Why did you come here?”

“I found that Marika chick and her kid. They’re at the Target on Lomas and Eubank buying diapers.”

“Oh.” I looked at my watch. “Okay, are they still there?”

“Yeah. They just got there a few minutes ago. She had some errands to run.”

The departed didn’t always have a good sense of time, so I hoped he was right.

I put a hand on his cheek. “I am so proud of you.”

He shifted away from me, uncomfortable. “Why would you be? I told you, I killed my best friend. And I lied to you for years.”

“You did not kill him, Angel. It was an accident that occurred when you were trying to do the right thing, if you’ll remember. I’m proud of you whether you want me to be or not.”