"She is. Well, not Pentagram City here, but in Hell. I know that much."

He loved his mother but it was...complicated...to say the least.

He cleared his throat. "So your family is all down here? I assume that some sort of sin was the family business? Theft? Murder?"

It was a reasonable assumption in his opinion: This was Hell, after all. One didn't get to Hell by baking cookies for the church picnic. (Alastor would know that from personal experience.)