Epilogue
Kane listened quietly to the heavy drops of rain falling over his black umbrella and over the dead petals left to rot on the grass beside the stone. The steady beat nearly lulled him to sleep as he stared listlessly at the gravestone in front of him.
Here lies Clark Tristen. Beloved friend, faithful servant, and an innocent man.
He lingered on the last three words as he stood there.
..an innocent man…
After all that he’s seen, the words now seem foreign to him. He’s seen it all before – priest stealing from the donation box, nun hitting children, devoted Christians touching kids – he’s seen it all. Yet in the few weeks he spent inside that place that was the only time he really felt the weight of it.
No man was innocent of anything.
Clarke was never his friend. By his defi
