“Kate?”
I turned. Laura stood a few feet away, the tablet still clutched to her chest like armor. She looked tired—we all looked tired these days—but there was something else in her expression. Sympathy, maybe. Or just the particular exhaustion of being the one who kept everything running while everyone else fell apart.
“Father Corletti’s on the phone,” she said. “He says it’s important.”
“Of course it is.” I managed a small smile. “Everything’s important these days.”
“I can take a message if you need a minute.”
“No.” I straightened my shoulders. Pushed the grief—or whatever it was—down into the place where I kept all the things I couldn’t afford to feel. “I’ll take it. Which line?”
“Stuart’s office. I transferred it there.”
I hurried inside, not surprised to find that the office still smelled like him. I sat in his chair, and grabbed up the phone, longing for Father’s voice.
“Father.”
“Ah, Katherine.” His voice crackled through the line, the connection from Rome never quite as clear as it should be inthe age of fiber optics. There was warmth in it, though. There always was. Father Corletti had been more of a father to me than anyone else in my life, and even across an ocean, I could feel his presence like a steadying hand. “I trust Stuart is safely on his way?”
“Just left. He’ll see you soon.”
“Good. Good.” He cleared his throat. “I had hoped to send Father Donnelly to assist you with the Samarek situation. Unfortunately, an urgent matter has arisen here that requires his attention. He will not be able to come.”
I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. My shoulders dropped. Something tight in my chest loosened.
“That’s really not a problem. I mean, the more the merrier for fighting, but, well, you know.”
“Because you do not trust him.”
There was no point in pretending. “Eliza does. And I know he and I are related. But you said it. I really don’t. Especially not after learning what he did to Eric. To Allie. All those experiments, Father. All that breeding program nonsense. He played God with their lives. With my family’s lives. He put demon bits into a child and called it science, called it necessary, called it serving a higher purpose. So not sorry he can’t come.”
“I understand. Much of life is complicated. There are many facets. And your instincts have always served you well. I would not ask you to ignore them now.”
There was a pause, and I heard him take a sip of what I knew would be tea. “Tell me, child, what do you know of Samarek’s current state?”
We talked for a while about the portal, about what we’d found in the basement, about Trevor’s body and the blood and the failed attempt with Allie’s blood that should have worked but didn’t. Father listened more than he spoke, asking the occasional question, making small sounds of acknowledgment.I could picture him in his study in Rome, surrounded by his books and his crosses and his centuries of accumulated wisdom, processing everything I told him and filing it away in that vast, orderly mind.
“We’re trying to figure out Stuart’s prophecy, but we don’t have a good idea yet. Allie’s blood was our best guess, but obviously that didn’t work. Maybe Stuart will remember something that was in his head but that he didn’t speak.”
I hoped so. The vessel of light that’s shadowed? Allie had been sure that was referring to her blood. Someone with a soul but tainted. But since that didn’t work, there had to be another interpretation.
“We shall all keep pondering,” Father said. “And you must take care. All of you,” he said.
“We will. Eric and Laura have been going through the archives with Mindy and Zane, looking for anything about Samarek’s methods. So far, nothing useful.” I paused. “About Zane,” I began, then wasn’t sure how to continue. I’d written everything up and sent Father an email, but this was the first time we’d spoken.
“You did the right thing,” he assured me. “That boy is a victim, too. Not as much as Trevor, but we do not try to count pain. That is never wise. Let him help, Katherine. It would do his soul good to help undo some of what he helped his father wreak.”
“We will,” I promised.
The conversation shifted then, the way it always did when I spoke with Father. “And how are you, Katherine? Truly?”
I leaned back in Stuart’s chair. “I don’t know,” I admitted. “Relieved that Stuart’s going somewhere he can get help. Sad that he’s gone.” I swallowed against the tightness in my throat. “And guilty that the sadness isn’t...bigger. Does that make sense?”
“It makes perfect sense.”
“I feel like I should be devastated. He’s my husband. He’s the father of my son. He’s leaving because of me, because I—“ I stopped. Started again, “You remember what happened, right? When Stuart was in the coma. When we thought he might never wake up. Eric and I...”
“I remember.” His voice held no judgment. It never did. “You confessed this to me some time ago, if you recall.”
