23
DAHLIA AND ALAIN sat at a round teak wood table with Father Renaud in his modestly furnished office. Clasping Alain’s hand, Dahlia said, “Thank you for seeing us, Mon Père.” She hoped he’d remember something about her parents.
The elderly priest steepled his fingers and leaned back in his chair. A crucifix hung on one wall, and a hint of incense spiced the air. A brilliantly colored parrot in a large cage in the corner chattered to himself, saying, “Our Father, our Father. Who art in heaven. Amen. Awk, awk. Amen.”
Alain grinned. “I’ve never seen a parrot that knows the Lord’s Prayer.”
Father Renaud chuckled. “He can probably lead mass as well as I can. Now, how might I help you?”
“I’m looking for my mother and father.” Dahlia withdrew a large envelope from her tote and removed her
