"Yes," the man said, realising the connection I was making, "it is sometimes a benefit to have some of the most talented artists in history at one's disposal. I was going to commission Picasso, but he has a rather odd take on what a realistic portrait should entail. Please, sit."

Standing under the man's gaze made me feel like a child again. He gave the impression of a teacher. Not unkind or stern, but clearly a man of authority who wasn't to be argued with. I did as I was told, perching awkwardly on the very edge of one of the seats beside the fire. He settled opposite me, taking a relaxed pose, still managing to appear tall and imposing even while sitting. "You have questions, I believe?" he said.

"What?" I was caught off guard. "No. No, I don't think so. Sorry, I think there's a misunderstanding. I was just dragged here by a kid. I thought she was lost, so –"

"I don't think she was the one who was lost," he interrupted. "Whether you're fully conscious of them or not, I do believe there are questions you want answered. I will do so to the best of my ability. I think I might even be able to guess what one of those questions might be. Can you?"

It sprang to the forefront of my mind without much provocation, as if the man had yanked it from the anchor holding it deep in my subconscious so that it might float freely to the surface. "Why did I have to die?"

"Everyone must die sometime. It's the way of the world. We are born, we live, and we die."

I probably should've seen that answer coming. It wasn't like I was immortal. Nobody lived forever. Not really. Sure, people could be remembered, but immortals were just a fantasy. The kind of thing you read about in books that were far better constructed than the one that I was trapped in. Maybe with a more competent author. The point was, I knew why I had to die sometime, but that wasn't really what I wanted to ask.

"But why now? Why when I was – I mean – look at me! I'm in my twenties!"

"Every day children are welcomed into Heaven. You are far older than they are, yet you still believe you have been taken unfairly. Why?"

Well, now I just felt like a bitch. Especially after having seen some of those children when I'd first arrived. Fate had been far crueller to them than it had to be and still I found room to complain.

"I – I had plans–"

"Did you?"

"Well – well, I would have. I mean, I hadn't thought a lot about it, but I had things I wanted to do and people I wanted to be with."

"Your sister?"

"Yes! Soph' must have been – I can't even – if something happened to her, I wouldn't know how to carry on living."

"But she has, and so have your parents. It is not their time."

I ought to have been happy that they'd found a way to carry on without me. The very fact that none of my family had joined me in the afterlife was evidence of the fact, but to hear it stated should've filled me with relief rather than sadness. I swallowed past a lump of misery as it swelled in my throat. Of course, they should be allowed to move on with their lives. It'd been far longer for them than it had for me. I just didn't know how anyone could find happiness again after losing someone they loved. I wanted that for them, but I resented it at the same time.

God, no one told me there would be complex feelings in this story.

"But it was mine?"

The man paused, pressing his lips together into a thin line. He seemed troubled, as if he was wrestling with a desire to answer but didn't know if he ought to and, if he did, how best to say whatever it was he wanted to convey. "You are a special case, Mackenzie."

"I know about my missing papers," I said. "I didn't know files and papers were a thing when it came to dying, but I'm aware mine isn't around."

"I take it you've guessed who I am by now, yes?"

"Is it stupid to say that I think you're God?" I asked. "Because if it's stupid, then I don't think that."

"God is a name given to me by some humans. I have a lot of forms and titles, but this is the most common. So – yes – in a manner of speaking, I am God. I prefer to be thought of more an architect, however." He said it without ceremony, as if the fact he was proof of the Creator of all things was as bland a piece of information as how many potatoes it would take to reach the moon. Which, to be fair, wouldn't be all that bland a piece of information. In fact, I was rather invested in finding out. Later, though, when I wasn't in conversation with some divine being that I hadn't believed in before I'd died. "The fact that your file is missing is of great concern to me, as is the fact you are presently here in the afterlife instead of on Earth. I don't believe for a moment that you are not where you are meant to be, only that you have arrived at your destination far earlier than I'd have liked."

"So... it really wasn't my time?" I asked.

"Rather than concerning yourself about when you died, I would rather you considered the why. Why is it that you are here now? Fate plays a hand in everything that happens to us in life and death. In your case, Fate has dealt you a hand that – at present – I am at a loss to understand."

"If you don't get it, then how am I meant to?" I demanded. "You're – you know – you're God!"

"An architect," he corrected. "But, as I said, you are here for a reason. Fate might not have shown us all her cards yet, but she has dealt a hand for you, and it is one that you must play. For now, I suggest you stop looking back to the past and consider the future. Consider what it is you can do with your position. I assure you; you already have the tools you need to help you to succeed in whatever it is that is waiting on this path."

"A scythe and a miserable git for a partner?"

"A pure heart and a sure mind."

"I'm sitting here talking to God. I'm not really sure of my mind at all right now."

Still, he was right that I shouldn't look to the past. There was nothing I could do about the fact I was dead. I'd already asked to be brought back and everyone had said it was impossible. I was stuck as a Reaper until I could be moved on to Heaven. In the meantime, I supposed it was my Fate to help people to pass on. I didn't know why that was so important for me. There were a lot of Reapers and they all did the same thing. I was hardly doing anything out of the ordinary as far as they were concerned. It also didn't follow that someone had taken my file merely to put me into such a situation. It seemed like a lot of effort to go to just to ensure there was one more Reaper on the job. They'd have been better served just ensuring that Jack hadn't turned into a Hell Hound chew toy.

God waited patiently while I tried to riddle it out in my head. I simply couldn't do it. There was too much I didn't understand about the afterlife, and the motives for the events I'd encountered thus far weren't clear. If it was all leading to a bigger picture, then I was stood much too close to that picture to make out what it was. All I could see of the grand master plan was a tiny section and it made no sense at all.

I slumped back in the seat, defeated by my own inability. Taking pity on me, God came to kneel in front of me. It was something I never thought the Creator of everything would do. It was a fatherly sort of gesture. He took hold of my hands in a comforting manner and told me, "You are very important, Mackenzie. As important as everyone I have ever created. I don't want you to lose sight of that."

"How can I be important if I'm dead?"

"You are important because you are dead. You were meant to meet Death and Leon. You were meant to part from your family. I am sorry I can't tell you why, but I'm sure it will become clear soon. In fact, I'm certain of it. Protect the souls entrusted to you and let Fate guide you without question. You will receive what you deserve, just as everyone does."

I nodded mutely. It wasn't exactly an answer, more of a reassurance that I would have one eventually. Still, I wasn't about to tell God that his advice sucked, or that I'd rather have a simple statement than all his promises and riddles. I guessed it was all to do with taking things on faith and belief. It seemed pointless for him to test an atheist in such ways but, hey, I wasn't about to argue with a man who was known to smite his enemies or to flood the world because he wanted a do-over.

"Now, I must send you back," he said.

I remembered Leon and how he'd instructed me to stay and read books. I still wanted to talk to God, though. I wanted to know how my sister was doing, and if there was any way I could tell her that I was okay. I wanted to find some way to check up on my parents even if they couldn't see me. I wouldn't have minded haunting a few of my ex-boyfriends either but I wasn't going to push my luck.

The choice wasn't mine to make.

God pressed two of his fingers to my forehead and my vision was clouded by a blinding flash of white light, much like the one I'd seen coming from Leon's scythe when I'd wielded it. I squeezed my eyes closed. It was too painful to look at. I could still see it through my eyelids, impossibly bright and completely inescapable.