Hey, are you OK?

  Ever didn’t know where he was going. He just had to get away from Pagoto’s, away from Taylor, away from it all.

  *Why is it so difficult to tell her, Mentor?*

  A car beeped at him as he tried to cross the road without looking both ways.

  *How hard can it be to just open your mouth and say the words that you want to say?*

  This is what being human is all about, Death said gently. If it’s hard that means that you’re going in the right direction.

  Never more than now did Ever detest the human way of life. How was it going in the right direction when it felt like he was going to lose a friend?

  What does Marcus Aurelius say about doing the hard things?

  Ever stopped in his tracks, right in front of a pedestrian crossing. When he had borrowed Meditations by Marcus Aurelius, he had read it until it was dark. After that, he changed into soul form, touched the scythe to the book and floated in the treehouse, letting the centuries old voice of the former Roman emperor teach him his philosophies.

  *He says many things about adversities, but the main lesson is that the obstacle is the way.*

  Right, which is literally what I just said. Do I have to change from my black robes into a white toga and wear an olive wreath for you to listen to me?

  Ever sighed. His mentor was right. He had given her as much space as he could and she had just apologized. She knew that she was behaving differently towards him. This in itself was progress, this he couldn’t deny.

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  *Thank you, Mentor.*

  Right, now go into that alleyway and change, I want to take you somewhere.

  —--

  *Mentor, I don’t sense anyone dying here.*

  Ever stood floating in a hospital ward at the back of the room. A woman lay in bed, eyes closed and chestnut hair dishevelled, her hospital gown clinging to her body. A man sat on a plastic chair right next to her, clasping her hand tightly. Any closer and he would be on the bed with her.

  “You did so well honey,” he said, kissing the back of her hand.

  “Where is she?” The woman asked weakly. “Where’s our baby?”

  “The nurses are just cleaning her up, they’re going to bring her in soon.”

  The mother smiled, nestling into her pillow. She opened her eyes again. “What about Dad?”

  Her husband paused. “I checked the flight schedule, he’s still on his way, landing in a couple hours.”

  The woman sighed deeply. “He’s not well, I told him that we could visit him once we were discharged.”

  The door to the room opened, two nurses coming in. “Someone wants to see their mommy!”

  The mother stretched her arms out towards the nurse holding the newborn close, "Patty!" The mother cooed, eyes crinkling with maternal joy. The nurse gently put baby Patty into her mother’s arms and stepped away.

  “Excuse me,” the husband said to the other nurse, “we’ve brought a Polaroid, do you mind taking a picture of us?”

  “Of course!” she said, bustling over to the table on the side, which already had some bright, yellow sunflowers wrapped in pink, crinkly on it.

  OK, now stand next to this nurse as she takes a photo, Death murmured. Ever listened, taking his place near the nurse. He’d never seen a camera like the one she was holding: blocky and white, with a slit at the front of it. She stood right up to them, getting a clear shot of all their faces. There was a bright flash, some whirring, then a square bit of film ejected from the bottom edge of the camera.

  “Got to shake it, don’t I?” the nurse said with a grin as the husband nodded.

  Seconds later, Ever peered over the nurse’s shoulder as the picture of the new, happy family gradually appeared on the film paper, just like magic.