The railings were already hot—hot through his scars.
He plodded up the ladder between burning vines.
A small flame ignited on his sleeve.
He batted at it and kept climbing.
"Which art in Heaven."
Another rung.
"Hallowed be Thy name."
One more. The railings were burning his hands now.
"Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done, on earth, as it is in heaven."
His eyes stung from heat and smoke, but they never left Bea's. It was almost like she was in a different world. He could see her screaming, crying, jumping, but all he could hear was his mother's voice. "Give us this day our daily bread. And forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us."
His foot slipped on a rung. Shoes must be melting.
"And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.
