About twenty minutes later Konya came out looking refreshed in some jeans with a blue hoodie in hand. He stopped to stare at Dareka for a moment.

“What…?” the angel asked after a second.

He shrugged, turning down the hall, and like a puppy, Dareka followed him to the bedroom. “How’d you die?” Konya asked, sitting at his desk.

“Wh-why would you want to know?”

“It’s natural.” Konya replied, looking to him. “If I’m going to help you look through records a year old, it’s best to start with the cause of death.”