“She does,” Liza persisted. “She has that same sense of peace you have. You know who you are. It’s more powerful than you could ever imagine. It sort of shines...out of your face.”
In view of her internal agonies only seconds before, Hana shook her head in denial. “Oh, I don’t think...”
But Liza cut her off sharply. “I’m not saying you have all the answers, Hana. You have this surety somehow. I envy you.”
Hana chose to say nothing, staring at the carpet between her socks. She felt no surety in her life at all most of the time; apart from her faith. God loved her; she knew that without a shadow of doubt. She wondered if that was what Liza meant, but instantly dismissed it. Liza couldn’t possibly know what Hana did or didn’t believe because they’d never had a conversation about anything.
