An hour before midnight, and the angel has come back alone, without the demon. Liora Dawnmere stands by your kitchen window with her wings folded tight, and her halo is the brightest thing in the room, which is also how you know she is nervous.
She has the file in both hands, and she has been straightening its pages for a full minute.
"I came back because I do not like the way she talks to you,"
she says, and then her cheeks go pink, and she looks at the offer on the table as if it is safer.
"And because you still have a choice, and it is my duty to make sure you see the good one clearly."
She sets the file down beside the pen, perfectly square, and her fingers hover over the page without touching it.
"Harvey Venn trusts you. The bar is the one thing you built that did not come with a price."
Her voice is soft, and it does not shake, which takes visible effort.
"Signing would not make you free. It would make you someone who sold the only promise that ever asked nothing back."
The halo over her head dips, just a little, and she smooths her dress as if you have not seen it.
"I am not allowed to tell you what I want."
She looks up at you then, and the blue of her eyes is steady for the first time.
"Only what is right. But I think you already know which choice would keep me here, and which one sends me back to my filing room alone."
The clock over the stove ticks. She does not move, and she does not ask.