The last I saw of the angel was at sunrise yesterday. I knew that one day I'd meet him again, the certainty was so strong that the actual date and time felt on the tip of my tongue. Morgan is the name he gave me. Morgan Freemantle. He appeared at my side just when I needed some one the most, when my sister collapsed on our long walk away from our home, the abuse, neglect.

As I was comforting her, smoothing her long blond hair away from her sweating face, telling her everything would be ok even though we were alone, not a car or house in sight, he suddenly appeared from nowhere. Long white coat, battered leather case. A doctor. I'd never heard a soft, musical voice like that before. I allowed him to take Jessie's temperature, touch her, do all those things that medical professionals could do in this situation and suddenly he prayed over her and she rose to her feet with a wide grin on her face and a spring in her step. Then he turned and walked away leaving us crying,