The Black and White
Miguel listens to Claire's voice on the phone, and despite everything else, his heart jumps. She always makes him excited, as though she's not human. Divine, probably. Or maybe he's just getting crazier and crazier about her. Who knows? With what's happening with him these days, it's getting harder to know which is which.
"Hello?" Claire's voice is raspy, like she's been crying. "Mi—Miguel?"
Hearing her mention his name gives him a warm feeling, as though she cares about him. He watches even the slightest inflection, of how she pronounces his name. Did she just say "Miguel" with that trace of longing, like she missed him? He sighs.
"Is he there?" Miguel says.
She hesitates; she looks at Gabriel, who nods. After all, it's useless to lie. Miguel probably already knows. "Yes. Where are you?"
"Everywhere," he says. "And nowhere."
Claire again looks at Gabriel, hoping for some wordless guidance. Gab makes a gesture that says, "The floor is yours, Claire. Slay."