A Trick of the Light (Chief Inspector Armand Gamache, #7)

by Louise Penny

Just before it closed Peter remembered something else. “Arisen,” he called. “Hope takes its place among the modern masters.” He stared at the closed door, sure he’d called out in time. Sure she’d heard. “I memorized the reviews, Clara. All the good ones. I know them by heart.” But Clara was inside her home. Leaning against her door. Her eyes closed, she fished in her pocket and brought out the coin. The beginner’s chip. She grasped it so tightly a prayer became printed on her palm.

As he turned back to the village he saw Ruth get to her feet. She was staring into the distance. And then he heard it. A far cry. A familiar cry. Ruth searched the skies, a veined and bony hand at her throat clutching the blue cardigan. The sun broke through a small crack in the clouds. The embittered old poet turned her face to the sound and the light. Straining to see into the distance, something not quite there, not quite visible. And in her weary eyes there was a tiny dot. A glint, a gleam.