“TOM, ARE YOU ALL RIGHT? How’s Helen? Was anyone hurt? I can’t get a straight answer from anyone, and the news is as helpful as it always is, spinning theories and talking nonsense when they don’t know anything.”
“Yes, Your Eminence,” I say. “I’m fine. Helen’s fine. As best as I can tell, the only injuries were some twisted ankles and some bumps and scrapes. But I’m curious why you didn’t know. Did Angelo call you?”
“Yes he called me—speaking in Italian, a language I never even picked up when I was at seminary in Rome, beyond being able to order in a restaurant. Once I got him to calm down, he didn’t know much. He had no idea how you and Helen were, beyond something about hearing yelling coming from the Rectory.”
I close my eyes and grit my teeth. “Helen and I had a little . . . discuss
