Epilogue
Richard held the dark-haired girl close to him as he watched the blaze. The heat from it warmed his face in the cold of this December dawn. Pinkish-grey light was just beginning to show over the eastern horizon.
Around him, the others were gathered in a tight circle. None of them spoke. Each of their faces was upturned, watching the flames rise up into the darkness.
Near the front of the crowd, an old woman stood. Her salt and pepper hair was pulled up in a bun and she gripped her coat tight around her. Just above her blue wool muffler, moist brown eyes peeked out.
No one looked down, where Jimmy Fels lay, covered by the priest’s coat, looking almost as if he were asleep. The flames flickered across his white face, giving his skin a luminescence, a glow.
He almost looked a
