Ten minutes later, Angela woke to find herself in a bathtub. She warily raised her upper body and spotted the blond man sitting beside her.
Constantine sat on the edge of the tub with a constipated expression. Turning to Angela, he said, "Sorry, there may have been some misunderstanding. I thought you were one of those people I'd made deals with before, whose debt-collection methods weren't exactly civilized."
"What the hell?!" Angela had barely finished speaking before she coughed twice. The violent vomiting earlier had left her entire stomach still convulsing.
Constantine pursed his lips and put on a helpless expression. "I already called Father Midnight to confirm it. He really did send you. I'm truly sorry. There have been rather a lot of creditors coming after me lately, so I've been on high alert. You can't say that's entirely wrong, right?"
Using every ounce of strength she had, Angela sat up in the tub and leaned against the wall. She tipped her head back against it, squeezed her eyes shut hard, and drew a deep breath, trying to ease her physical discomfort. Then she looked at Constantine and said, "You lunatic. They said you were some great detective, but as far as I can see, you're nothing but a con man!"
As she spoke, she struggled to stand up from the bathtub. "I never should have had any expectations for you goddamn charlatans. How could that kind of thing possibly be real? Move! I'm leaving!"
"Wait!" Constantine stretched out a hand to stop her. "Don't you want to know The Truth about your sister's death?"
Constantine got to his feet and reached out to block Angela, but she was drenched, her wet clothes clinging tightly to her body and outlining her graceful figure. The moment he extended his hand,