It took him awhile. Finally, he slept.
And in the morning, he and Angela and Zach and Skye headed to join the Donegal family for breakfast.
Colleen was an entirely different person, up, energetic, welcoming—and amazingly well overnight.
Of course, as they gathered to eat, Colleen and Sean were unaware that their banshee, happy as a lark, was joining them as well.
But her appearance wasn’t strange to the “Krewe of Hunters” or their “The Crows” members.
But something very strange did occur as they ate. Strange to even them.
Passing a bowl of cheesy eggs, Sean told them, “I tried to reach that young cleric or priest who was at the hospital yesterday,” he said, nodding to Angela.
“Father Patrick,” she said.
He nodded. “They told me that they didn’t have a Father Patrick who came to visit patients and their loved ones. I insisted that he’d been there and that I’d to thank him, but according to them, he doesn’t exist.”
The banshee looked at Angela and Jackson from across the table.
“‘There are stranger things in heaven and earth, Horatio!’” she quoted, smiling.
“Well, I’m sure he’s out there somewhere,” Angela said. “After all, it is St. Patrick’s Day!”
“And we’ll lift our . . . our orange juice glasses!” Sean said. “In honor of a man, a great man who taught us all about love and forgiveness!”
“Here, here!” went around the table.
Breakfast was lovely. They talked about Elizabeth, too, and how her case would be managed.
And how she would be helped.
It was time to leave. They said their goodbyes. Hugs went all around.
When they were the door, the banshee followed them to say her own final farewell.
“Thank you!” she told them.
“Thank you!” they replied in unison.
She smiled.
“Um, one more thing!”
“What’s that?”
“Don’t be so doubting on the leprechaun thing!” she told them, and she laughed and ended with, “A very happy St. Patrick’s Day to you!”
