“For how long?”
“For a long time,” Jude signs after a pregnant pause. Angus lowers his eyes, pondering over what Jude just told him.
As he’s processing the fact that this is the last time he’ll ever see his father, Jude slips the silver chain out from under his T-shirt and gently places it over Angus’s head. “I want you to have this, buddy. My mom gave this to me when I was your age. It’s Saint Jude.”
Angus fingers the medallion with care, understanding the importance and significance this gesture holds. Without a lick of fear or uncertainty, he asks, “Is he an angel, too?”
A gasp escapes me while tears sting Jude’s eyes. “You know what I am?” His question is split into two. It’s a desperate plea that Angus shed some light on what he, what we are. But it’s also filled with surprise tha
