THERE ARE STILL A GOOD number of people downstairs. All of them come up to Helen to tell her how glad they are to see her doing better. As we go through the crowd, Miriam comes up and pulls us both to a table.
“I want to thank you both,” she whispers, “for talking to Catherine. I’ve been so worried about her.”
“Her gift, if she has one, is both a blessing and a curse,” I say seriously.
“I’m leaning more towards a curse, though from what Dan’s told me, Helen, that without Catherine that woman would have succeeded the first time she tried.”
Helen nods. “The sight and scope on the gun were off center. Probably when Catherine caused her to lose control of her bicycle.”
“How are you doing?” I ask.
She opens her mouth to speak, then closes it. “Not well. Oh, Father Tom, Helen, it’s just ho
