It probably wasn't such a great thing that I couldn't fall asleep until well after midnight, going over every small little detail that happened at Thanksgiving dinner. That, and I didn't get home until midnight, too. Thankfully, Mrs. Ellis, the woman who was "supposed" to be "checking in on me" usually had her lights out by at least eight in the evening, so I knew I wasn't going to get in trouble for breaking curfew. My parents may set rules, but they were pretty oblivious to the fact that I usually broke them.

So, all in all, Thanksgiving dinner had been pretty eventful. I'd learned a few things that just might possibly help me out on my task of saving Archer. But I was beginning to think that maybe there was just more to this whole saving Archer deal. It'd be pretty cruel of Death to pile on more tasks than I already had, but I wouldn't put it past him. Maybe I was actually supposed to be helping the entire Morales family, as well as Archer. Because the Lord only knows that family had more than enough to deal with.

It wouldn't be easy, but I was 97% positive that I'd be able to do it. Apparently, the kiss that unexpectedly happened between Archer and me in the kitchen was just the slightest bit of a confidence boost. Who would've thought that was even possible?

And it was safe to say that that kiss was one of the main reasons that I couldn't fall asleep. I was a little angry with myself that it hadn't been my first kiss, but it had more than made up for the awful one I'd gotten in the sixth grade when some twerp named Jeremy Parker had decided that kissing me would be a good way to "make me stop talking" during lunch.

I'd never been able to live that one down, so it was nice to have another kiss to remember.

When I woke up at five that Friday morning, I was probably over the moon and completely terrified at the same time. How on Earth was I going to face Archer after that more than amazing kiss in the coffee house's kitchen last night?

In all honesty, I was scared. But I had to reason with myself that I'd faced worse before and that this should be no problem at all.

I was lying, of course, but I figured it wouldn't hurt to try and believe it anyway.

I ended up having to call a taxi since I couldn't find a train that stopped at the station two blocks over, as I had to report to work at five thirty that morning. It was Black Friday, after all, and apparently that meant business in the world of coffee or something.

The back door to Mama Rosa's was open when I arrived, and I slipped inside as quietly as I could manage. I didn't expect the triplets or Regina to be up and about, and if that were the case, I didn't want to be overly loud and wake them up.

Lights were on and blazing in the kitchen as I walked in, shrugging off my coat. There could only be two people up - Victoria or Archer - and I was praying that just for a few minutes I'd be able to collect myself without Archer around. I was just the slightest bit afraid I was going to have a panic attack.

With my luck, however, I should've known that it would be Archer who was up, rummaging about in the fridge, as I hung my things up on the coatrack.

He turned around as he swung the fridge door shut and gave me a rather cool, collected look.

"Uhm...good morning," I said awkwardly, crossing my arms over my chest.

"Morning," Archer replied briskly before leaving the kitchen, holding what looked like a box of pastries.

Okay, that wasn't what I'd been expecting to happen. Things were bound to be awkward between us at first, but I hadn't expected him to just up and walk away. So far this wasn't turning out so well.

Before I could fabricate some ridiculous lie about how I suddenly couldn't work, I slouched my way over to the sink to wash my hands with soap and water. If things were going to be completely awkward with Archer, then I might as well throw myself into work and try not to get burned by the coffee maker. Not exactly what I would call a very exciting start to the morning, but it was better than staying home alone, curled up underneath the blankets on my bed and wallowing in self pity.

Sighing exasperatedly, I left the kitchen after pulling on my employee apron, scuffing my feet as I walked out to the front.

Archer was bent over at the pastry case, carefully arranging Danishes, muffins, and any other delectable treat on trays for display. I leaned up against the front counter and crossed my arms over my chest, hoping he would be the one to break the silence first.

Clearly that was too much to ask for.

He finished putting out the pastries a minute later and shut the case before knocking the empty box off the counter, on to the floor, and then turning to the gigantic coffee maker and espresso machines.

"And what am I going to be doing today, Archer?" I demanded out of nowhere, my eyes narrowing at him.

Maybe I didn't have a right to suddenly be getting annoyed with him, but there was a difference between being quiet and giving someone the cold shoulder.

"Manning the cash register and getting people their food," Archer answered curtly. "Try not to mess anything up today, mind you."

I bit back a snarky response and rolled my eyes. "Yes, sir."

What the hell was with him today?

Instead of having a mental debate with myself about what could possibly be going through his head at the moment, I twisted my long, still damp hair into a braid and then jumped the front counter to start setting up the tables.

Thankfully, someone else had already pulled the tables back into place after yesterday's dinner, so that was something else I didn't have to deal with.

It was tedious work and wasn't too particularly tasking. There wasn't really anything difficult about pulling down chairs and cleaning off tabletops with a wet rag, but it required at least enough attention to not knock things off on the floor.

I made sure all of the tables were in order before heading over to the firegrate to get a fire going. My Grandma Theresa's house used to have one of these old fashioned fireplaces, so at least I knew how to start a fire without burning myself.

After there was a fire crackling merrily away in the grate, I pulled myself up to my feet and head back behind the counter again. Archer had finished putting ground up coffee beans into the espresso makers already, and now was just sitting on the floor, his back to the pastry case.

"Archer?" I said cautiously, bending down beside him. "What're you doing?"

He cracked open an eye to stare at me, and even then he still managed a completely patronizing look. "Finding peace of mind."

Huh. Who would've thought.

"Are you alright?" I demanded before I could stop myself, my concern for him taking over.

This time he opened both eyes to more or less glare at me, his mouth twisted down in a frown. "I'm fine. And why are you asking me this?"

I swallowed hard, trying to act as nonchalant as possible. "Well, I mean, after last night, I wanted to - "

"Do not talk to me about last night," Archer snapped, cutting me off. "The last thing I want to do is talk to you about last night."

Ouch. That was kind of a slap in the face.

I involuntarily flinched at Archer's harsh words, biting my lip. I could understand him being sensitive about his mother, but wasn't this taking it a little too far?

"Archer..." I said slowly, swallowing hard. "What's wrong?"

Archer gave me a look that was beyond baffling. "What's wrong? What's wrong? What's wrong is none of your business, sweetheart."

I was seriously tempted to kick him in the shin right there. What the hell was his problem?

"You know what? Fine," I sighed, getting to my feet. "Go ahead and be an asshole for all I care."

That was probably my problem, I realized as I headed back to the kitchen to gather up clean dishes. My problem was that I probably cared too much - more than I should.

Regina didn't make an appearance at all during the day, and neither did April, May, and June. Victoria showed up an hour or two after opening to help Archer out with making coffee, but no other family member appeared at all.

I mostly took care of food orders and working the cash register, which really wasn't all that hard, even if it was Black Friday. There were a little more people than usual filing in through the doors in the early hours of the morning, and we ran out of cherry Danishes at about ten.

Archer wasn't pleased about that. I made sure to laugh extra loud at the expression on his face when he heard the news, just for him.

The dinner rush was a little more hectic than I'd ever dealt with. I almost messed up on delivering an order, which would've been disastrous, and I almost spilt a cup of coffee on some poor old guy with crooked glasses. I probably would've burst into tears if that had actually happened.

So, all in all, I guess it really wasn't that bad of a day. The work was enough to keep me busy, sure, but there was one thing that my mind seemed to permanently be fixed one. One guess as to what that was.

I couldn't even begin to understand why the hell Archer had kissed me last night. Somehow Because I wanted to just didn't seem to suffice as an answer.I had ridiculous hopes that Archer would talk to me about what had happened, but of course that wasn't going to happen. Archer barely even looked at me the entire day, even if I was actually talking to his face.

I had no idea what the hell his problem was, but it was starting to make me angry (as ridiculous as that sounds).

I hadn't kissed him. He had kissed me. And now that was my fault? It made no sense.

When eight o'clock and closing time rolled around, my feet hurt, I was grumpy, and I was exhausted. Victoria had already turned in for the night with a few orders to make sure that the entire place was impeccably clean, that the fire in the firegrate was put out, all the food was put away, and that the dishes were clean.

I had a feeling I was going to be doing the majority of the work on my own.

"Are you going to give me a hand?" I asked Archer, hand on hip, watching him eating a sandwich as he leaned up against the front counter.

Archer gave a noncomittal shrug, focused intently on his sandwich. "No."

I wanted to scream. Thankfully, though, I didn't.

I started muttering obscenities under my breath as I went around mopping down the tables. Just another fabulous way to end the day, wasn't it?

Archer finished off his sandwich and disappeared into the back kitchen without a word a few minutes later. As childish as it was, I flipped my middle towards his retreating figure, glad he wasn't able to see that. It made me feel a little better, so I suppose all wasn't lost.

After I was finished with mopping the tables, I threw the wash rag back onto the front counter and set about the task of putting the chairs up on the tables. That only took me a few minutes, and I'd even made it back around the front counter, to go to the kitchen, when I realized I still had to put out the fire in the grate.

Damn. So close.

I hopped up over the front counter and headed back over to the firegrate, getting the poker to try and but the fire out.

So I didn't exactly know what to do here. Archer or Regina were usually the ones who put out the fire, and I had no experience with this whatsoever. I highly doubted that poking the logs until they stopped burning was going to work, but at this point, I figured it didn't hurt to try.

I was working on doing exactly just that, but I nearly screamed and threw the poker in the fire when I heard a rather unsettling voice speak from behind me.

"You know, I do believe you're only stoking the fire, not putting it out."

I whipped around, expecting to see Death sitting on the couch. However, the person sitting on the couch was most certainly not Death.

The person on the couch was a young guy with silvery blonde hair, dressed in a gray colored suit, and he looked particularly at ease just sitting there, his legs crossed, his hands clasped together in his lap. I guess everything would have been normal about this situation, save for the fact that the front and back doors of the coffee house were locked, there shouldn't have been a random but very attractive guy sitting on the couch, and that said attractive guy's eyes were mismatched - one was blue, the other a dark black color.

"Who the hell are you?" I demanded shakily, gripping the fire poker tightly in my hand.

The guy gave a pleasant smile, showing off straight white teeth. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Hadley. You can call me Havoc."

I stared at the guy, frowning. "Havoc. What kind of name is that?"

So I wasn't freaking out about the fact that there was a guy who'd gotten through a locked door who knew who I was. I was questioning the guy about his name. Death probably did that to me. Go figure.

The guy that called himself Havoc gave a laugh. "There's no reason for us to discuss my name, Hadley. I'm here because we need to discuss something else."

It would seem that a lot of people had to discuss a lot of things with me lately. I decided to toss aside all reason and just go with this for a moment. I mean, I was holding a fire poker. I was set.

"Fine," I snapped, standing up straight. "Talk."

Havoc sighed, looking horribly distraught. "Oh, I do wish you'd be more pleasant about this. It's not as if I'm going to harm you or anything....yet."

Okay, that was a little disconcerting.

I gripped the fire poker tighter and brandished it at him, hoping I looked as confident as possible. I knew I could never really harm someone with it, but this guy named Havoc didn't know that.

"Why are you here?" I demanded, trying to keep my voice steady. "Did Death send you?"

Havoc laughed again, louder this time, and I glanced over towards the kitchen, wondering when Archer was going to hear what was going on.

"Oh, Mister Morales can't hear us at the moment," Havoc said, almost as if he was reading my mind. "And no, Death most certainly did not send me. Death has no idea I'm here. For the life me I can't understand why he's so particularly protective over you. You're not much to look at."

Wow, asshole much?

My eyes narrowed as he spoke. What was he on about? Death was protective over me? That didn't even make any sense. Death had said that he wasn't allowed to help me with anything.

"What are you talking about?" I said, momentarily distracted.

Havoc sighed and patted the space on the couch next to him. "Do have a seat, Hadley."

"No. I think I'm fine standing here."

Havoc shrugged, clasping his hands together again. "Suit yourself."

"Well?" I hinted, waving my fire poker for emphasis. "What is it that you need to blab at me?"

Havoc raised an eyebrow, looking unimpressed. "Blab? I wouldn't call it blab, Hadley. I'd call it more of...ordering"

"Ordering?" I repeated. "What d'you mean?"

"You will stop whatever this is that you've started with Mister Morales. I don't believe you'll like the results of your actions if you don't."

"Excuse me?"

My jaw dropped as I stared at the creepy guy, hardly believing what I'd just heard. I seriously needed to get my hearing checked sometime soon.

Havoc smiled, giving me a knowing look. "I do believe you heard me, Hadley. You're not hard of hearing. I'm telling you you're to stop this."

"Stop what?" I demanded. "There's nothing going on between -"

"Oh, I don't really believe that," Havoc said, cutting me off. "Not after that little...ahem...meeting in the kitchen last night."

I felt my face flame red with color and I very nearly whapped the man upside the head with the fire poker. "So he kissed me! That doesn't mean anything! That could have easily happened to - "

Havoc cut me off again, holding up a hand for silence. "Don't try and explain yourself, because I'm not interested in hearing. I came here for one reason and one reason alone. Stop this right now."

By now my heart was pounding and my palms were sweaty and I thought I might pass out.

"Why are you telling me this?" I asked a moment later, swallowing hard. "This is ridiculous."

"Rest assured, it's not," Havoc said, sighing heavily. "If Archer Morales is going to kill himself, then there's nothing you can do to stop him."

No. No. That was absolutely not true. I refused to believe that was actually true.

"I don't believe you," I said firmly after a moment.

Havoc sighed harshly, slapping a hand on his leg as he leaned forward. "You're meddling with things that aren't supposed to be meddled in, Hadley. No one can come back from the dead, you know. It's against the laws of nature, and not to mention highly illegal."

I'll admit I was caught there.

"Illegal?" I repeated. "What do you mean, illegal?"

"Death is breaking the Edict by allowing you to do this," Havoc explained, a rather cross look on his face. "I trust he didn't tell you that."

"No," I said, glowering at him. "He didn't."

Havoc snorted, shaking his head. "Of course he didn't. That man never follows the rules. Now, listen closely, Hadley, because even I'm breaking the Edict by allowing you to hear this."

"Okay, what is this Edict?" I sighed exasperatedly.

"The Edict set by the big guy up there," Havoc said, pointing a finger up towards the ceiling.

No way. I seriously have to be dreaming right now.

"The Edict states that no human shall never know what goes on up there, but I suppose I'll just skim over the details. There have always been exceptions made where suicide is involved with Death," Havoc began, like he was readying himself to start telling some long tale. "It's incredibly sad when someone takes their own life, but it does happen. In some cases, time has been reversed so a single human being can stop a person from committing suicide. But let me tell you something, Hadley. That person rarely ever succeeds."

Well, I had figured out that much. Death had told me before I'd even accepted this task that it was going to be the hardest thing I'd ever do, and I certainly believed him.

"Why does Death have a soft spot for people who commit suicide?" I asked Havoc without thinking.

Havoc sighed again, shrugging a shoulder. "Because his wife committed suicide."

I gasped, a hand flying to my mouth. "Are you serious?"

Death had been married? Death had a wife?

Havoc nodded, his lips pursed. "The entire situation was highly inappropriate, as she was a human, you see, and Death most certainly is not human."

"But why did she do it?" I demanded.

Havoc scowled, looking cross. "I'm not here to talk to you about Death, Hadley. Do try and focus."

I glared at him, rolling my eyes. How could he expect me not to ask questions after hearing something like that about Death?

"If you leave Archer Morales well enough alone and never speak to him again," Havoc continued. "Then he'll kill himself and everyone will forget about him and carry own with their own little mundane lives. Now doesn't that sound nice?"