"I never considered the flip side of there being more joy in Heaven over the conversion of one sinner than over the lives of ninety-nine saints. What about the guardian of the one sinner who doesn't repent? Since the value of each soul is the same, is that angel destined for sadness in equal measure?"

When a guardian angel loses his charge, how can he be fruitful again? Time alone hasn't eased the grief for Reflection. Is he forever a fruitless branch, or is he a fruitful branch sleeping through the winter season?
 

     Please forgive me if I've in any way displeased you, Father, either by sin or by disappointing--

     Oh.

     That's a relief. I figured for certain I had.

     Because of everything else I've managed to get wrong lately. When Gabriel summoned me before the Throne, I figured it was the end, that I was Job 4:18 personified and you'd finally had enough.

     Well, you should have. It's almost two years, but I'm stuck.

     No, I don't want another assignment right now. That's why I haven't presented myself before you. I'm not ready, and I'm not certain I ever will be.

     I never considered the flip side of there being more joy in Heaven over the conversion of one sinner than over the lives of ninety-nine saints. What about the guardian of the one sinner who doesn't repent? Since the value of each soul is the same, is that angel destined for sadness in equal measure?

     I can't shake it off. Look at me--why am I using words to talk to you, who read hearts? I spent eighty years with him, thinking like him, predicting his behavior, listening to him, and over time I adopted his responses, his habits. I see something and think, I have to show that to William, only now I can't.

     I don't even look the same. When Gabriel summoned me, he said, "Reflection?" and when I turned, he took a step backward. Then he hugged me and wrapped his grey wings around me, and only afterward did he tell me why he'd come. While waiting, I made a duplicate of myself, and I'd want to hug me too. I'm not vibrant any longer. My hair is dusky and limp instead of curly black, and my eyes have gone from plum-colored to robin's egg. I'm gaunt. Yes, angelic bodies are fluid, but I resemble William right before he died.

     Why do you want to hear about it again? You were there. You're the only one who loved him more than I did. You know all the graces you gave, all the help I offered, all the times he resisted you, and all the reasons you eventually condemned him to Hell.