HELEN LEAVES TO RETURN to her apartment, grab a quick shower, and change into something more befitting a chief of police than her Bunty costume—which she’s still wearing. The only remaining part of my Father Brown costume is my saturno, looking out of place sitting on my head while I’m wearing sweats and a t-shirt.
Though I am tired, I made a commitment after Helen’s hospitalization to always make time to stop by the chapel for a few minutes to thank God for her recovery, to pray for those in crisis, and to check to see if there was anyone who needed comfort. I slip into the back of the beautiful, dimly lit room.
This place is truly a marvel for, while many modern facilities have up-to-date, religiously neutral decor, this chapel was moved, piece by piece, from the previous hospital and
